Extrasolar Capture
by Nolanstar
Summary: Journey of survival in the traverse and terminus, away from the niceties of citadel space and into a region where interest groups and warlords vie for power. A place where species and beings outcast, forgotten and rejected lurk on the fringes of galactic civilization. Heavily codex-orientated, focuses on expanding the universe with a side-story.
1. Chapter 1 - Venandi

**A/N: I want to thank LogicalPremise for taking the time to go over this and give some feedback,** **szierera** **and bloodsplatBOOM for grammar/spelling and clarity edits. Chapter 1-5 updated and posted and polished. 6-8 being reworked. Feedback always appreciated since otherwise improvement takes longer.**

 **This is for me an experiment and exercise in writing something that's not an essay or research paper, and more content on me then helping others flesh out their work and universes (usually not plot-heavy on my end).**

 **Chapter format is two in-universe pieces (one at the start, the other at the end) around the story section.**

 **M for a reason, several instances and scenes are intended to be somewhat uncomfortable or graphic, but in the end it always depends on the reader.**

* * *

C-SEC Report file: Zakera-EG-93716.

Date: 05/12/2181 Gregorian Calendar (Translation)

Access-level: Unrestricted.

Reporting Officer: Amstarim Heraxis; Officer Grade 2.

Report Prepared by: Amstarim Heraxis; Officer Grade 2

Sparen Venthas; Subsection-37 Clerk

AVINA Subset Protocol: Enforcement, Zakera, Quarian Pilgrimage Node

Incident: Death of one Zaltis'Zer vas Neema, Self-defense Case of one Nikolai Zeneska, Assault of unnamed Quarian pilgrim (Addendum; description of participant in event details)

Species Involved: Human, Quarian, Turian.

-CSEC-CSEC-

Detail of event: Police responded to distress call from (Suspect) Nikolai Zeneska along with undetailed C-MED request for dextro-amino casualty. Arrival on scene revealed Zeneska attempting to access model RN-746 HEVO suit with omni-tool, which ceased upon action. Cursory analysis of tool indicates suit security was not breached. Suit owner was one (Casualty) Zaltis'Zer vas Neema who by time of C-MED arrival had moderate cranial trauma to back of skull, splintered deformation to anterior cartilage plate and minor abrasions from suit injector wear. Intoxication was one of a BAC of 0.33 with a grade-9 autoimmune reaction to suit breach (Addendum; subject suit-data profile indicated moderate-secure Ipso Manducaverit condition). Unnamed quarian suspect found unconscious via neural shock dart on scene, escaped during cursory questioning of Zeneska. Suit described as purple-black (312C5B-4B476E) with gold-reflective faceplate (No Data), navy trim on limbs (6C33FF- 4A33FF).

Conversation with Zeneska indicated that pilgrims had seemed intoxicated and had harassed turian staff member Aldan T'Voyan-Heraxen with racial slurs and clan-derived insults. T'Voyan-Heraxen went into building to cool off, failed to alert additional staff to situation. Zeneska resorted to physically removing instigators from premise after unidentified quarian threw suit waste-packet at Zeneska. Physical confrontation within allowed limits by bouncer to remove unruly patrons as per C-SEC L/N.P/M codes. Unknown quarian attempted tech attack consisting of single neural-shock dart (Program level unknown) but had arm redirected by Zeneska into midsection due to inebriated reflexes resulting in self-incapacitation. Physical confrontation between Zeneska and Zaltis'Zer resulted in minor bruising for Zeneska, listed injury for Zaltis'Zer as result of custom-fabricated arm gauntlet severing air supply. Zeneska states he did not attempt to do severe damage, and security footage and testament of character from on-site employees support this.

-CSEC-CSEC-

Actions Taken: C-MED RRT#7560-Zakera/Dextro responded and determined care for Zaltis'Zer was impractical, pronounced dead during extraction preparation. No charges against Zeneska as Officer Heraxis deduced scene was self-defense, supported by lack of practical evidence for conviction, as security camera footage and testimony matched Zeneska's statement. Cursory interrogation at C-SEC subsidiary house Zakera-8 indicated no reason for restriction, subject appearing remorseful. Establishment Malto's Sunspot closed for customary 2-hour period.

-CSEC-CSEC-

Summary: No charges laid at Nikolai Zeneska (Evidence supports innocence), No charges laid to unidentified quarian (Unable to identify, 18 possible matches on-station.)

Warning: Nikolai Zeneska reported financial cyberattack on account used for employment wage 6-days after incident, see subset report Zakera-EG-93716-A. Secondary report of omni-gel explosive detonation in unofficial wards residence 2.753 hours later, see subset report Zakera-EG-93716-B.

Warning: As of 8-days post-report Zeneska has left the citadel.

-CSEC-CSEC-

End C-SEC report. Digital sigprint Heraxis G-2. AVINA cleanup present.

* * *

Date: 07/04/2182 Gregorian Calendar. Horizon.

I swallowed my worries at the sight of the _Hanar's Table_ , continuing my pace onwards to the seedy-looking establishment. The lit-up exterior of the club making my thoughts turn to the reasons of past three years before I could bury them, instead taking the time to notice my surroundings. The side trip to Trinity Falls had taken an hour via aircar, and the setting was remarkably like some of the more human-dominated sections of the wards, with an even mix between my species and the big three, along with those batarians willing to deal with the cultural conditions to escape their own. A mix of wildcat miners bringing in their mineral hauls and purchasing supplies and amenities, to mercs and colonists mingling as they argued over protection rackets - flanked often by combat drones or mechs depending on the negotiation power they tried to compensate for. Asari and humans on business from Trident mingled with batarian refugees and rescued slaves. Turian outcasts haggled with their more loyal brethren while gangs of salarians and the occasional krogan merc rounded out the melting pot.

I saw a group of Blue Suns in armor mingling outside the establishment; a trio of turians and another human in an argument with a pair of batarians and an orange-crested krogan wearing gang colours, the asari and human bouncer pair keeping an eye on the proceedings though still letting people into the bar. Shrugging at the asari as I flipped her a credit chit, the doors opened automatically, and the atmosphere hit me. Dozens of smells permeated the room, racks of hookah on the wall with labels indicating the effects on various species in a variety of languages lending the air a smoky, multicoloured haze that seemed to settle in different layers and almost gave me a coughing fit. Suppressing my coughing reflex, I weaved between a pair of turians comparing omni-tools and blocking the door to get better look at the interior. The description from the wildcat who suggested it in the town over didn't do the place justice, as dozens of individuals from different species conversed in a stream of languages that my translator flagged when focused on, the cacophony of sound more bearable than the smoke that filled the room.

A maze of raised and lowered booths formed the perimeter around the main floor, dextro and levo bars interspaced with tables for drinking and gambling. The staff was mostly human with a few drell seeming to be dealers for the card games, and the handful of salarian and turian bartenders all had visible weapons on their hips or backs, clear warnings not to start anything. Haptic and older LCD screens showed krogan kowla fields and human football stadiums along with running bets on outcomes and players, along with a dozen other sports I had no ability to place. There was also what seemed to be a holo of two hanar wrestling – at least I hoped it was wrestling. Finding a small corner booth with a good view of the patronage and a quick path to a levo bar, I settled in and pulled up the menu.

 _This isn't a good idea, I have no idea what the locale is like and no backup plan. Stop whining and deal with it already, I killed them. Both of them._

I'm not a murderer, legally anyways. Shooting a gangster trying to hit the facility I got paid to guard with an eezo-rigged explosive satchel hardly constitutes murder. A logical thought, something many a security guard or merc probably had at some point. If I hadn't shot them someone else could have died, and besides, it was my job.

 _Such a clinical kill anyway. Rosenkov marksman rifle as she was trying to scale the security fence with a package. Might not have even known it was a bomb. I didn't question her, issue a warning or even give her the decency of a fight. Cold and premeditated, pretty sure that's murder. Now I'm trying to forget that, hence the "best goddam bar on the continent". After quitting the job anyways, they even gave me a nice bonus for securing the base from an incursion. You got a bonus and a pat on the back, merc-shit._

One pitcher into the local brew I'd selected and I'd only served to make myself feel worse, the burning hole in my stomach more a response to my nerves than the alcohol, though my monologue was interrupted as I politely waved off a turian merc. I took a moment to look as she walked away, chastising myself for not asking why some of the girls had a head-fringe and some didn't as I noted the spikes leading back from her skull, more curved than those of the males but still present unlike her friend at the bar. She did have a nice armor set though, high-quality medium gear with what looked to be medium-grade shield enhancers on the back. Freelancer of some success then, maybe I should have just had a conversation even with the lack of reciprocated interest, assuming I read her right. Too late now. Ordering another pitcher of beer as I settled in to look around discreetly, curiosity finally getting the better of me as the salarian bartender delivered my pitcher, staying a few seconds until I gave a small tip with my chit before walking off.

 _I really should have said something, maybe an actual conversation would do me better then moping around like a spurned stray. Would a turian really have been worse than drinking yourself into a stupor, or are my tastes a bit too normal for such? Either way I'm now continuing to walk the path of alcoholism, a bit less jokingly than I'd like. Useless._

Ordering another as the second pitcher went by too quickly, the clawball screen across the bar providing an entertaining distraction for my comfort, starting to have an easier time shutting out the more negative aspects of my thoughts until I caught a glimpse of a suited quarian getting waved away by the bouncer at the door. Memories of my time on the citadel began drifting in, and my mood went from pleasantly relaxed to irritable in the sharp shift that alcohol allows, a moment of focused clarity proving to be my downfall as I lost myself in the sea of thought.

 _Everyone walked away from this one alive, I'd say that's a better job than I did there. Murderer. Fuck, I killed a drunk kid in over his head. I ended a chance for a life probably more important to his people than mine. Investigation labelled it as self-defense, but I know that's wrong, I killed him and his friends watched._

I'd been working as a bouncer for a dextro nightclub on the citadel, on the portside edge of Zakera Ward. A medium-sized establishment that mostly catered to turians and quarians with the occasional adventurous and dextro-tolerant Human or elcor patron, it was in a better part of the ward and the most I'd had to do prior was steer out a few drunks. The place had got me my current dampening and neural shock fabrication programs for security purposes, mostly to ward off and deal with any drunk asari before biotics were used. That mess had ended with me fleeing for my life after an explosion next to my semi-official rented space.

Snapping back from my ruminations to the request of the salarian bartender stopping by to ask if I'd like another drink, I made a quick gesture to an imported drink from Trident, some sort of fermented seaweed beer that was closer to a hard liquor despite the technicalities of its brewing, also transferring a tip more generous than I would have while sober in appreciation for the silence. His robe-covered head nodded, and a few minutes of drunken glaring at the clawball screen later he arrived with the seaweed concoction. Saltier than I expected, but a pleasant combination after the few pitchers of hops-heavy ale that had already made the fogginess of the room impossible to distinguish from the smoke. Nursing the drink while watching the crowd, my booze-addled mind picked up details sober me hadn't paid attention to while thrashing myself.

The ominous glaring of a pair of Human miners at a pair of asari mercs, while a krogan and an absolutely massive bronzed man sat in a corner, omni-tool details of a heist on a rival group's ore shipment visible in haptic form on the table, relying on their sheer size to discourage interference by the Turian/Human couple edging around them, obviously connected with the target group. The pairing up of individuals as the night drew on, including the Turian who tried to talk to me prior and her friend walking out with a pair of human militia, slipping me what was probably a smirk on the way out. Chuckling, I raised my glass to her, the remnants of my drink sloshing as my fine motor control wasn't as fine at this point.

Too focussed on the Turian in my state I barely noticed the asari slip into the booth and take a seat across from me. Devlon Explorer-series armor with a M5 submachine gun on her hip. A light but consistent blue skin tone with the only markings a few subtle charcoal lines along her pharyngeal clefts, though a notable scar was visible on one of her left lowest head-tent, a good portion of the skin rougher and with a grey shade and mottled look. Average build and height as far as I could tell regarding the armor, but still shorter than most of the Citadel-bound asari with a steeled but playful expression that few there had. Weight shifted to her right side as crossed her legs and leaned into the corner **,** noting my attention with a rather charming smile. She stood and extended an arm in an invitation to follow, hips not cocked but in a relaxed stance despite the armor. On what a soberer me would've considered a bad judgement call, I got up and followed her out, downing my drink and waving at the salarian who'd kept me supplied during the night. The pair of us walked out and past the door, the arguing Blue Suns long since gone on to other business. A short aircar ride later saw us to her apartment, not too far from my own prefab rental.

* * *

My mind exploded awake with pain. Immediate, hot and all-encompassing as my hands reflexively went to my face, eyes squeezed shut and feeling wet as I rolled off my back and into a recovery position. Attempting to move anymore was sending spikes of white-hot agony down through my skull, the area behind my eyes screaming as my temples throbbed. Details began to surface of the night, shapes and forms and blue light and smoke. Attempting to sit up made me dizzy as well, a spike of nausea as I lolled my head to relieve the muscle tension, eyes still slammed shut. Tipping forwards I fell, barely controlling the roll enough to avoid smacking my face into what I assumed was the floor as my body rolled off what was presumably a bed. Quickly opening my eyes to get it over with, the dim lighting of the room was appreciated for all of three seconds before my nausea caught up and I retched on the floor, foodless liquid quickly running out as it shifted to a painful set of dry heaves.

I laid in a curled-up mess on the floor, ignoring the pool a few inches away as I shivered on the ground, the warmth of the apartment doing little to ease my chills. Eventually my headache died down enough to come to my senses, re-opening my eyes I sat up, the spike of nausea replaced by one of hunger. I took stock of my surroundings, small prefab interior with local furniture and a cheap extranet terminal in the corner, and a set of asari kitchen appliances mixing with a few varied human ones along the counter. Not my apartment then, which would explain why the bed seemed different when I rolled off.

Attempting to solve the state of undress that had been ignored in favor of more painful issues, I once again toppled over as a wave of dizziness hit after getting my pants on. Slamming into the prefab wall with a resounding clang and sliding down to a sitting position, I became aware of motion on the bed as my still blurry vision indicated a blue blob was performing an imitation of a beached whale. A second passed before I was able to clarify it as an asari rolling over in pain. Anger and sympathy spiked as a target for the current situation slowly came into focus, and I stumbled over to the bed to attempt to get some answers, the form on it twisted to the right and silent.

 _This isn't good, what the hell did you take? Hope whatever fuckery occurred has no adverse effects._

Biotics flared as my hand grabbed her wrist, and once again the wall became familiar with my back as I was thrown into it. I countered the action, launching into what an adrenaline-hazed me counted as a leap but was most likely a flop as I landed short of my target. I scrambled to get purchase on the now-skewed mattress before catching my seeming attacker by the shoulder. There was a lack of response as we both seemingly calmed down, her finally exiting the stupor of being awoken in poor condition and me realizing that fighting a biotic in close-combat while wearing only pants was a good way to die.

 _Real nice job there, least she didn't break anything. Maybe you were drunk enough to ask for something like that. No, I wouldn't. You don't remember do you? Maybe enough pain or guilt and an Asari too drunk to care as she tried to help the poor little human._

"What the hell did you do? Not the first time that I've been with an asari and I don't recall feeling like my brain went through a blender." My voice was raspy, throat sore from vomit and dehydration and the words barely were audible, but the same asari from earlier looked up to meet my glare with eyes still slightly black from whatever meld-bullshit had occurred. I was not exactly an expert on the weirder aspects of asari physiology asides from some anatomy knowledge and first-aid training, but I figured that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

She shifted uncomfortably as she balanced her weight to her right foot, neither of us in the mood to care much for the state of the room after our scuffle, though I'll admit to a glance at her chest after looking to see if my armor was in the corner. Rubbing her eyes as she dealt with whatever the issue was, she finally turned to me with an answer as I went for a glass of water in the small kitchen section, downing a few while she contemplated her response.

Blue lips pursed, smudges of black lipstick worn off as I subconsciously brought a hand to my own lips, wiping a black smear into the sheet afterwards. I ignored the moment of annoyance that crinkled across her face with a wrinkled brow and a narrowing of eyes before she spoke, voice also worn by alcohol but with an uncomfortable amount of what I recognized as a satisfied tone still riddled with tremors. Her scleras dipped into a darker shade.

"I lost control, at the bar you seemed attractive enough and upset about something which I assumed would get a good response from a human, especially after you seemed amicable enough to the turian as she left. Tides thought one of the xenophobic Traverse types wouldn't have shown any interest there, but Goddess I didn't mean to go that far. Shallow meld with no risk of pushing, but that spark you had when I got in your mind, the berating subset of" - I tensed up as she shuddered, a trace of arousal rather than disgust sending all the hairs on my body standing on end - "yourself. I deepened the meld and gave in, my own repression breaking then straining as it fought to dominate the aspect of your psyche."

Too confused to do anything else, I continued to stare at her as my anger slowly resurfaced.

 _That explains next to nothing, you don't know enough about melds to figure out what the hell went on. I need to relax, try to listen and see what happened._

"It was unexpected, my control had already slipped and the fragment got into my own memories through the meld. I didn't know what to do…" Her voice cracked for a second, shameful and upset. "I lashed out, crushed it in a panic, sent us both into shock and we passed out. I took a part of your mind because of my condition, and Goddess forbid, it felt so good." Her voice dropped several octaves with the last few words, stance tightening in tension.

I pulled up my codex, and ran a search, amused my omni-tool had stayed on in the circumstances. I tried to focus, to determine a response as my control began to waiver and I slipped into panic, a white-hot spike of pain piercing my mind for the second time since I'd awoken. Rage flared at the conceptual realization that the monster atop the bed had stolen a part of me. This time I lost control, the haze of fury cutting through the fog and confusion as I lunged at her, straddling her torso with one leg over her own to prevent movement in a rage. We both made for grabs as my arms wrapped around her throat. I knew where to press for a relatively safe knockout from training, but enraged I didn't care and simply squeezed on the muscle and windpipe, ignoring the burning in my arms as she grabbed them, her panicking action as my arms began to scream, skin sloughing as the flesh was warped by the biotic fields shimmering around the being's grip.

I grit my teeth when my blood began to drip onto her neck and the sheets under it. I ignored the pain, anger at the violation and a lust for revenge mixed with a scrambled and reeling mind keeping my hands where they were, staring at the blood that was creating a pair of Japanese flags on the bed.

Then my gaze moved up to her neck, the bruised skin and rapidly pulsing artery were barely visible under the thickening sheet of red dripping down from my arms, and her skin was shifting to a darker purple on her cheeks. I met her eyes. Filled with panic, a desperate look as tears rolled down from the corner, flickering around before settling to stare into mine for a second. Suddenly repulsed I let go and scrambled to the side as her biotics and arms had weakened enough for me to slip out with the sudden motion. Filled with disgust at what I'd been about to do, the thought of purposely taking another life and the method I'd been squeezing for making me recoil in shame. Falling off the bed, the water that I had downed before came up again, mixing with the blood still dripping from my perforated arms and stinging them as what sense of settling I'd achieved this morning disappeared, now replaced with an odd sense of loathing that wasn't coming from a formed line of thought, but weighed as a dreadful singularity in my core. Blood, water and tears mixed on the floor as I all but collapsed. Thoughts with words coming to a halt as I finally processed the last few days, from sniping the gangster to almost strangling someone in a fit of rage. An encore of my earlier performance upon waking up, but with less of a headache and a lot more resignation.

 _I almost just made it three. She said it wasn't intentional, why would it be? Who'd be so sorry for that. You don't know or care do you? B what if she did this before, some sort of sick addiction that's oh-so-fitting with useless self-pity, maybe you're just the most recent catch?_

I heard the mattress shift behind me, a series of wheezes making me flinch again. I mumbled a few apologies as I attempted to feel what ragged flaps of skin hung off my arms, the blood still coming through in a lattice of ruptured capillaries. I was almost welcoming of the pain before thoughts over what she'd done briefly flashed up - before being squashed down by my conscience with the emotions they entailed, a coughing fit serving to punctuate the pang of emotion. Shuffled steps towards what seemed to be the bathroom ended with a cabinet slamming and a ripping sound, before a somewhat wet adhesive sound and a hiss of pain. Slowly I began to rise to a kneeling position, hands trying to wipe away the blood from my arms as the non-threatening but constant trickle had slowed and clotting began. Flinching as a hand touched my shoulder and retracted almost as quickly, I turned around to the same set of eyes that gave me a jolt to clarity prior. Medigel-soaked bandage slapped to the bruised neck, a canister of the goo held in her hand. Handing me the gel I coated my arms with a layer before wrapping them in the bandages she retrieved as I was doing so. Ten minutes of uncomfortable silence and first aid later before I went and got us each a large glass of water, a surprisingly grateful nod as we both greedily drained them.

"We should both eat." I looked up as she spoke, getting up to refill the pair of glasses as we both tried to apparently find some sort of direction for the situation to go in.

A quick affirmative from me before she got up. She slipped on her omni-tool and pulled up the menu for what passed as some form of asari cuisine in the town, paying for it and ignoring the chit I threw towards the bed. Attempting to provide some form of decorum to the apartment I attempted to make the bed while she turned a cleaning drone to the mess on the floor. A teenaged worker delivered the food, shooting us both odd looks but not saying anything about the state of the room or the lack of personal cleanup despite some hastily thrown-on clothing articles. I'm sure the sight of my own bandaged hands, her bandaged neck and lipstick and blood on the two of us set off a few alarms or a few stray thoughts, so I slipped a small tip their way along with a zipped-lips gesture. The food was simple, light seafood and pasta suitable for breakfast while still being filling enough for a biotic, if a bit sweet for my tastes.

"Low-mid grade, not severe." She said, noting that I'd pulled up my codex for a proper reading of the article I'd skimmed before. "Not a death unless I really pushed and still generally pleasurable, but I lost control and went in too deep. Bloody waves I'm sorry, that's the type of stuff they try to lock us up for, and I try to avoid it when I can but the conflict was just so tempting, I honestly didn't mean to. I'm really just happy neither of us are dead at this point, since that'd probably screw things up pretty bad for the other." She trailed off, bit of a stutter and still raspy while she sat cross-legged on the bed, slightly leaning to her right against the wall.

Listening to her blathering was both enlightening and confusing given my headache. Finishing the food and pushing my dish aside, I opened my mouth to speak and stopped as I didn't know what to say, settling on a "What's your name?" that seemed completely out of place. It was possible she had gleamed a bit more from the meld, but I couldn't even remember if she'd said my name or not.

"Syella R'vaein. Born on a small farming colony in asari space and fled when I realized the effect I was having on my first partner. Stuck to shallow stuff with aliens since, including the casual fling I was intending with you at the bar, though that ship's obviously sunk now that this mess happened. I don't really know what to do Nikolai, we both need to heal up with the medi-gel for a bit before going out but given the mutual states of our employment staying here awkwardly shouldn't be too much of an issue-"

I cut her off, conflicted guilt and anger mulling around and giving my answer an odd tone that caused her to flinch back a little. "I'm sorry. I was going to - was going… fuck, I was going to kill you and that doesn't make me feel good at all, but I lost it when I felt something off, something-"

Her turn to cut me off. "I know human, but I've got as much Goddess-damned reason to apologize to you. I'll consider us even with the medi-gel and the arms in regards, but neither of us killed the other when we could have. Lingering on it won't do us good. I'd suggest you go to a mind-healer on the Citadel but I gleaned enough to know your fears of doing such."

 _Welp, safe to say she gleaned a bit more info from you than you from her. Wonder what else she knows, the panicked gasps of the quarian on the floor when he could still breathe? The dull thud of a body hitting the ground as it falls down a wall?_

I didn't trust her, and I was frankly scared of her killing me with biotics despite any assurances made otherwise, but I was in no position to argue now. Any chance of getting out alive would be with the dampening mines on my omni-tool, and she wasn't stupid enough to let me point it at her. Doing so also simply equalized the combat situation, and the state of my arms would be a hinder in close-quarters, she'd probably distract me enough with a simple grab to have free reign afterwards.

 _I think she's not going to do anything. She could have killed you when this was done, a biotic strike to the head or an actual warp-field instead of the paltry ones on your arms. Look at the same, gentle smile you remember from before. What can it hide?_

Hours passed sitting in silence as we both just relaxed, watching some shitty vid on the old FLCD screen when the colony news flashed with a breaking story, and a warning banner. Some sort of warrior-monk visiting the colony in search of a target, and currently enroute to the trade post via shuttle. My reaction at such was a spike of curiosity, while my cautious companion on the other side of the room had a completely different response. For the second time today, I saw those eyes take a terrified expression, and grabbing a pack from under her bed and shoving it full of rations she started putting her armor on, nervous fingers making the action take longer as the terrified look persisted. Her body language had broke down from the relaxed stance to jittery, the air almost seeming slightly more intense even without a biotic corona.

She abruptly stopped for a second as if just remembering I was there, then deciding to speak quickly in the same tone as her apology prior. "Huma- Nikolai, put your gear on now. We need to get to the spaceport faster than a glide-ray or we're as you humans say, screwed."

Mounting confusion on my side as I started suiting up, my unwashed body not the most comfortable under the armor and my arms stinging as the suit slipped on. I clipped the extra arm gauntlets to my back as the pressure with just the standard plates was already uncomfortable, nevermind the extra straps and tightness over the bandages. I considered taking them off to let the suit's medical suite do a better job but kept them on, afraid they'd reopen the wounds in abrasion.

 _She's freaking out at the news story, possible that she's the target? I don't know enough to determine whats going on here, hell I don't even know what a justicar is. You need to find something out. Ask her already, it's bad enough she's telling you to gear up._

"Why does this concern me, what use would one of your enemies have with human security guard, unless it's something to do with your…" Oh. Her condition.

She responded quickly and clearly. "Justicars are vicious, if she thinks I've melded with you then the best you can hope for is a mind-rip as she tries to clear the waters. I'm going to continue that current and assume you're not comfortable having an asari who kills anyone she views as a criminal look through your memories?" Her tone was snappy, words rushed as she freaked out at the situation, probably not helped by the previous several hours making this seem to come at the worst possible time.

 _Okay murderer, might be a good idea to do as she says. The irony that your sexual escapism is going to be the very thing that gets you caught. I'm not a murderer, but she may not see it that way. There's not enough information and getting out seems prudent, already quit my job here anyways._

I redoubled the rate I was gearing up, grabbing my pistol from where it had fallen next to her door at some point during the night, my rifle still slotted onto the armor's back-plate. Turning around I walked into the bathroom where I'd assumed that she'd grabbed the medigel from. Three vials in the cabinet, grabbing them I filled my suits injector with one before slotting the other two onto my armor's belt. A glance at Syella, her to-go pack already slung over shoulders and armor on. We both ran out the door as her omni-tool set the apartment's terminal to wipe itself.

We stormed down the stairs, entering the street quickly. She turned to head to the spaceport, but I grabbed her by the shoulder and nodded to the perpendicular avenue when she looked my way.

"My place, got my gear and a few reserve items." I pulled away my hand as I spoke.

A worried frown crinkled across her face again, but she conceded and let me take the lead as we jogged, more and more people starting to seal their doors and windows as best as they could, flickers of the news rippling through the port town. Nonetheless we managed to reach my rented condo in a few minutes, and I grabbed my marksman rifle and a few omni-gel packets for my tool, along with a bottle of painkillers from the bathroom. I didn't have a lot of possessions and the furniture was stock, but I was willing to leave the clothes and medium-grade computer behind as we fled. Omni-tool wiping the household devices as I swiped my few stashed credit chits.

Out in less than two minutes, and we closed the distance to the spaceport, limiting my speed for the asari to keep up due to our different muscle structures, then bringing myself to a faster pace as she used her biotics to assist her run and passed me in turn. Only to stop abruptly as the southern entrance to the spaceport came into view as we rounded a corner. Syella and I both stopping for a few seconds to stupidly gaze upon the scene before I snapped and pulled her back behind the corner again.

 _You fucked up heading to your place, two minutes too slow._

Dozens of locals with a variety of guns were crouched behind assorted cover at the end of the road, streams of multicoloured tracers lighting up the avenue as they all concentrated fire at something on the end of the helmet HUD highlighted grenades and improvised explosive devices hurled through the air by arms or makeshift launchers, the coloured-salt tracers of tech-darts leaving flaming trails. All hit empty space as the figure charged across the street in the blue streak of a mass-effect tunnel. Said figure was the asari from the news broadcast, clad in off-red armor and advancing withpurpose down the street as return fire, more grenades and drones did nothing to slow her down, bouncing off the barrier or simply being absorbed, an agile throw sending the trio of grenades to the side of the street where they exploded against a civilian Grizzly parked in an inlet.

A stream of fire from an asari-made assault rifle neither I nor my HUD could properly identify cut down a trio of aerial drones, their angular forms crashing to the ground and exploding. A local wildcat miner in a hazard suit flanking her from the side managed to land a carnage round from his shotgun, causing her to stumble for a brief second. Her barrier held and she caught her balance, glancing at the miner as he loaded another round and ducked behind a stack of pallets. She turned up the pressure, the miner caught in lift field and flailing as he gained twelve feet in altitude. A blue streak and her charge blasted the miner into the wall before the form skidded down, broken body crumbling despite the suit as she returned to her original position a second after, hand raised as a crescent-shaped wall of shockwaves slammed towards one half of the firing line. Vehicles and bodies were sent tossed into the air before inverting and slamming the back down, charred bits of aircar flying as a core failed and sent a shockwave through the area.

None of the locals hit by the shockwave got up, the entire street a mess of ruined vehicles and bodies. A series of ball-contained warps lanced out at those on the other side still firing with decent guns, and with them ducking down to deal with the wisps of dark energy now ripping at their bodies the volume of fire diminished. Another lift field ripped several from cover to be perforated by the rifle, another one of the rippling shockwaves crushing the few who remained afterwards.

To our luck she didn't seem to notice the two of us as an initial threat given we were cowering behind the corner of a building, but the team of Blue Suns from the bar provided us a distraction to start heading down the street. Syella pulled me from the corner as we sprinted to take cover behind a car that escaped being used as a projectile in the previous attack, myself not feeling as safe given the lift fields I'd seen the justicar put out. Gunfire from the seven combatants started. Overload and dampening mines from the professional mercs lanced out, only for the justicar's barriers to morph into a swirling maelstrom, detonating the mines far enough out to cause only a distortion in her protection rather than short out equipment or disrupt eezo impulses.

Still they moved forward, green and blue salt-tracers streaking through the air as they tried to keep her barrier off-balanced enough for gunfire to get through and prevent any more overt attacks. The six mercs paired up and leap-frogged towards her, suppressing the justicar with streams of disruptor rounds from the turians and human. Green impacts of chemical rounds from the batarians' SMGs sparkled on the ground as the swirling barrier bounced them, the two grey-skinned aliens alternating with their turian cover-buddies while the human's Mattock fire allowed the krogan to move to closer cover, darting to the corner of the adjacent building that afforded more protection.

 _Need to move soon, best to run while she's distracted. Pair of us might escape notice as noncombatants if all we do is run away._

The more advanced gear and professional soldiers seemed to be slowing her down, until a burst from the asari-made rifle phased through one of the batarian's shields, the back of his helmet spraying brown blood as the corpse fell over. The turian, now robbed of covering fire, was lifted into the air before being hurled at the human, a biotic detonation knocking both out into the open where the phasic round stream killed them both, scattering vials of contraband as their advancement ground to a halt.

With the death of his human teammate the krogan lost control, a fortification package triggering as the Graal Spike Thrower stopped pounding on the maelstrom of a barrier and was shifted to one hand as the krogan started to charge. Thundering footsteps of a one-sixty-kilogram reptile in heavy armor building up momentum as he roared at the significantly smaller asari. A second of automatic fire did nothing as her phasic rounds failed to penetrate the closing target's armor. I had a moment of resignation as I expected her to crumple under the charge. Too hopeful for thoughts with words.

A shimmering blue enveloped the krogan as she created a lift-field, the massive form swept off his feet but continuing forward momentum with his head tilted down, still roaring in challenge as the Graal raised to fire. Biotic-wreathed hands pulsed and the momentum slowed while the Graal cracked open uselessly, those same hands reaching out to grab the edges of the krogans headplate. The reptile's body rolled over the smaller alien with its momentum but her grip remained, hands flaring with biotics for the second of motion. The orange plate ripped off and the krogan screamed in pain, the unworldly fluctuating pitch bellow sending a shiver down my spine.

The krogan landed as the plate was ripped away, trying to raise himself on stumpy arms before a causal memetic sent a throw that liquefied his brain, the grey gunk oozing onto the pavement. The pair of grenades that landed next to her unnoticed exploded, tossing her to the side with the force as her barrier reformed into a tighter sleeve.

Syella broke off at a run through the street while she was down, I followed and the pair of us made it to the next building unscathed, going around its back to put the prefab between us and the scene and hopefully stay out of sight. The fence of the spaceport drew closer, and I edged around first to take a look. The asari had recovered, remaining mercenaries dead but out of sight as we'd been behind the building. Syella caught me in a lift field, the gentle throw afterwards tossing me over the fence as she charged to my position in the air at the apex. Low-level of force as the pair of us tumbled down, my arms screaming in protest as I dropped the twenty feet and tucked into a roll, throwing them out at the end to slam against the concrete and bring me to a stop.

Recovering took too much time, and a voice rang out as I staggered to my knees, thanking my armor for my lack of broken bones, the power-assist doing its job as I landed. Syella was already running to the closest ship, I got up to follow slower then I would of preferred. Abject terror as a voice rang out, Syella's stunt having been detected.

"Halt, human. You have yet to fight and may still live if you are innocent." I froze and turned around while Syella started to hammer on the now-closed door to a turian pinnace, screaming and pleading for them to let us in. Now facing the being that forced us to flee from the town, a mix of dread and fury bubbled up past the solid front I thought I was presenting.

Frantically trying to come up with a plan, a spike of pain made me catch my head in my hands as I stumbled from the distraction, the justicar noticing and stopping her advancing walk to now look at Syella, almost broken down and on her knees as she uselessly banged on the unmoving door. Our pursuer's stance tightened and pace increased, having already passed through the entrance in a biotic charge. I frantically glanced around my vicinity to look for something, any piece of machinery, any weapon or just any sensory hazard I could use as a distraction. Fears and images swelled, visions of my own neck snapped by red-armored hands, terror of memories being ravaged as I lay unmoving on the ground.

My lips moved, stream of curses moving out as I stood frozen in panic, Syella's fists still pounding on the door as my mind filtered out the sobs. I didn't need to blot them out, the explosion that rang throughout the bay did that for me as the shockwave slammed me off my feet. I lay on the ground dazed for a second, picking myself up as Syella did the same from being thrown against the pinnace door. I looked around, the cargo door on the opposite side having exploded outwards to reveal a squad of human and turian local mercs pushing from behind a APC-model M-080 Bull, the extended troop bay topped with a turret mounting housing a Revenant LMG.

Humans and turians wearing grey urban-camo hardsuits rushed out, the Revenant spewing a stream of explosive rounds that lit up the justicar's barrier with light, the roiling maelstrom all but disappearing under the barrage as she was buffeted by flashbangs tossed by the mercs, dropping to her knees but maintaining the field.

Shaken out of my stupor by Syella, a nudge sent us running past the justicar's position, skirting the edge of the fence and exiting through the main entrance. My ears throbbed, no sound of explosions or the firefight behind us. Outside the port, I was shoved down against a wrecked car in a daze, not able to hear what my partner was shouting. There was a cool stinging sensation as she dispensed medigel into my left ear, fumbling with my helmet a second later before slamming it on my head, the suit automatically sealing when it hit the collar. I felt the shockwave of another explosion ever so slightly, the pair of us looking out from behind the car and into the bay area.

Carnage, the AFV having been tossed clear from the ground to slam into the cargo hauler also berthed, the two metal hulks twisted into each other. The mercs were smeared masses of limbs identifiable by pools of red and blue, the same turian pinnace Syella had been pleading with ripped open by something. The justicar stood over the pilot, pulled from the remnants of the cockpit. Black eyes shifted back to grey as she stood up and removed her hand from the turian, who scrambled away from the scene in a burst of movement. She hadn't turned to see us yet.

 _Find something or you die, no way you can escape on foot. A car over there, still intact with panicked civilian trying to escape. I have nothing else._

Not seeing an alternative I ran to the car, drawing my pistol as I approached the vehicle and terrified driver standing outside it. Pistol waving, I screamed at him to get out of the way, to start the vehicle. The terrified man complied, almost tensing as if about to be shot as he fumbled with his omni-tool for a few seconds. The car luckily did start and I swung into the driver's side, Syella deducing the plan and swinging herself into the back seat before turning to face my eyes in the mirror. I slammed the pedal down in panic as my attention flicked between avoiding the wreckage on the street as we built up speed and listening to her rapid, shallow breaths. A block away and I slightly relaxed despite flooring the vehicle, noting the low-quality car would go only up to one-eighty klicks an hour.

 _I just stole a car at gunpoint. Added armed robbery to your list of issues you little fuckup, sure that monk-thing has no reason to spare you at this point._

A frantic statement from Syella. "Go faster human! Go goddess-fucking faster she's behind us!"

Startled, I looked at the rearview and almost lost control of the steering in disbelief. A series of biotic charges from the justicar allowed her to catch up to us in spurts, lining up on the same street we were on and clearing the wreckage. Her red-armor settled into a biotics-assisted run that all but flew over the pavement and was able to keep pace with us through the streets, though hampered by other vehicles and pedestrians. I saw the streak of a mass-effect tunnel in the mirror as I lost sight of her but continued to drive. Dodging the now-panicking civilian crowds as local militia and mercs exchanged fire led me down a side street, only to have the roof of the car cave in slightly as the justicar launched downwards in yet another biotic charge. The roof slammed and deformed inwards from the blow, a sharp gasp from my passenger at the impact followed by the stowaway beginning to warp through the top rather than risk fire from the windows.

Syella blew out a window with her biotics, quickly landing a throw that sent the assailant stumbling enough that her balanced wavered as I swerved, the red-armored form tumbling to the ground and rolling before I lost sight of it. More of the grey urban-camo mercs were on the street now, dueling with another group in purple gear as frantic civilians scattered from the chaos-induced fighting. I had to slow for the mob of civilians to clear out, not willing to mow my way through a crowd.

I caught something in the mirror as I check it after clearing the crowd, an old hoverbike model made in imitation by human companies of a turian design encountered in the First Contact War. It seemed slower than I expected, probably weighed down by the extra armor slapped all over the body and painted in the same urban grey and blue highlights that the mercs had. What caught my eye was the figure atop in red armor, less shiny now that it was caked in grit and scorch marks, leaning way too hard on the handlebars but still chasing us.

The stretch of road cleared up, and I began to pick up speed as the hoverbike closed at a slower rate, a good few blocks still between us. My intended destination was a private dock one of the local PMC's owned, known for always having a corvette or two landed on-planet in case of needing to vacate or provide quick transportation. Then the car started to take fire, a few shots as I swore thanks the engine seemed to be in the front compartment, the non-air tires immune to being completely ruined with a single hit from her assault rifle. A shimmering barrier appeared in the rear mirror and I mumbled a thanks to my companion, doing what I could to avoid losing any speed as I made the turn out of the port-town and onto the little-used and poorly-maintained highway. Straightaway for several minutes as the bike approached ever closer, before the road turned into a gradual curve around the cliff formation that the private dock was situated in.

 _Not far now, I might make it out of this shit._

I'd spoken too soon, the gradual curve revealing a section of the road covered in collapsed rock and debris, scattered with room to maneuver between but not enough to maintain speed. I gritted my teeth and took the hit, the bike gaining a few dozen meters on us as the fire continued to hammer Syella's barrier in the rear mirror. Struck with inspiration of the rocks I looked up, the arches that towered over the road a source of the debris falling, not yet cleared out due to how disused the ground-route was. I had an idea.

I shouted to Syella. "Warp the rocks!"

"What?!" Her voice was strained, keeping the barrier up behind our vehicle and sending the occasional throw to buffet the bike.

I snapped out a response quickly, trying to pick one out that would work with my HUD giving size figures. "Rock tower up ahead, around 300 meters now. Collapse it as we go under."

A grunt in response, I left it at that. Warp fields sprung to life and writhed into the cracks, spreading their residue throughout the worn stone. A biotic pulse detonated them with a small thunderclap occured as we passed under, the the mirror view filled with tumbling stone and a massive dust cloud. We continued on the curve unmolested, the edge wall of the compound coming into view a few seconds before the hoverbike did, probably slowing to boost its vertical traverse and clear the obstacle.

We slammed to a stop as a kinetic barrier shimmered to life and blocked the vehicle access port, the tires screeching in protest as the brakes were floored hard and I spun the vehicle. I hopped out quickly, Syella doing the same from the back and staying on the inwards side of the vehicle. Humans in grey and red armor stood on the wall, and I mulled over what to say for a second.

Syella instead spoke first, to the point and effective. "Justicar on the hoverbike, we'll pay for a ride out of here."

A moment of staring from one of the mercs before he made a hand gesture. The kinetic barrier fell for a second and we scrambled inside, the field re-asserting itself almost immediately after we were clear. Mercs shuffled to defensive positions, spreading out so biotics didn't wipe out full squads while trying to lay down overlapping fields of fire from various vantage points on the wall and secure crates on our side of the barrier.

Just in time, the hoverbike engine whined as it decelerated and the justicar stepped off. Deep, medium blue skin with her previously grey eyes now yellow from activated contacts with some sort of tech. Her body armor was red, trimmed and ornamental in design but with overlapping protection and joints that presented a decent range of motion while weirdly emphasizing curves. She stepped off the bike, calmly striding up to the barrier and inspecting it with a glance and a brief surge in the yellow of her eyes as the scanners flared. Silence as everyone stood still, the mercs cocky behind protection while I slowly tried to back away without drawing to myself.

She spoke. "Human, that you run makes me suspect you may not be so innocent as I'd assumed. You've not attacked me yourself yet and may yet not have to die, but the actions of your companion during the chase ensure that she will die by my code, regardless of my prior intentions." The flat emotionless tone creeped me out a bit more than even Syella's presence at this point. "Lower the barrier and surrender, and you may yet provide a reason to live if I judge you clean."

 _Her rifle is aimed despite the barrier. You remember from watching before that she has high-grade phasic rounds. They may be enough to punch through and do damage to light armor from behind the curtain. I need to get to cover._

A glance at Syella, her posture bouncing from side to side slowly as her left side faced the justicar. I tried to disguise a nod to her as rolling my neck for a stretch in pondering or nerves. She didn't seem to notice, I suppressed a pang of guilt as irrelevant. Making my move I lunged, jumping behind a secure crate as she opened fire, phasic rounds passing through the barrier and clipping the neck of the merc officer not wearing a helmet, her form spinning to the left as it collapsed downwards. A flick of her hand and three mercs on the wall were pulled off in a field, spinning in the air as they floated outside the compound walls.

I ducked behind the crate as Syella joined me a second after, hearing the now-familiar sound of a biotic charge that preceded a scream and dull impact, before I felt a lift field envelope my own limbs and I drifted out of cover, two meters above the ground and out of reach as I spun. Luckily the justicar's focus shifted as a carnage round slammed into her swirling barrier, a few flashbangs tossed in the lapse of action it enabled. I lost sight for a second while they primed, my spin revealing she'd dropped and tucked herself up before they could explode, barrier still up. A blast of sound was filtered out by my helmet, and I was impacted by a throw-field from Syella's position.

The blast sent me hurling towards the ship, a good half the distance to the corvette's hangar bay before the lift field failed and I dropped, barely managing to catch myself without a roll with a leg spread out uncomfortably.

Mercs inside the bay had raised up sections of the hangar floor to use as cover, but all too often were picked up by biotics and perforated with the assault rifle while helpless. I watched a group of three in heavier gear that had been harrying the justicar with flashbangs succumb to a rippling series of shockwaves, tossed up by the explosions before a field crushed them back down into the metal pad floor. I sprinted behind a larger C-CAN crate, modular exterior cargo crate for a ship hopefully providing protection from the biotics. Syella was already behind it, having moved at some point while I was occupied. Another set of mercs fell to a lift field and warp detonation, leaving just us and three left.

The justicar still advanced, now no longer threatened by grenades or heavy weapons she methodically moved towards the corvette while the swirling barrier bounced fire from the remaining mercs. She moved past another prefab container, and the mercs all opened up with tech-mines that uselessly were buffeted aside, the overloads potentially doing damage to her armor's shields but negligible against the barrier that was the main issue.

The door to the cargo container burst open, several hundred pounds of metal smashing into her as she was flung aside at the impact, barrier tightening and flickering while rounds pinged off her armor for the first time. I finally acted, ducking out of cover as the green tracer of a sabotage tech-dart fired from my omni-tool, her rifle initiating a purge command afterwards to deal with the gunk and heat. A yellow-coloured metal body stamped out of the container in question, a human-made construction exo suit sending metallic footfalls as it advanced towards her. She finally reformed the barrier before any rounds hit her unprotected head, quickly leaping to the side to avoid the myomer and hydraulic-powered arms that smashed into her location a second later, denting the reinforced floor.

A blue lift-field surrounded the suit, and it strained for a second before settling back down, own eezo core and mass able to deal with her depleted reserves of energy. Her tactics switched as the suit was instead engulfed in a warp field, myomer bundles unravelling and splintering as the dark energy ate away at the suit, a more contained ball of warp-energy splashing into the torso and flooding the operator area with warp-residue. The operator screamed, speakers on the suit amplifying her frantic and torment-induced sounds as the legs were in turn collapsed by another blast, the suit finally toppling over.

My backing away turned into a full-fledged sprint towards the corvette bay now only a few dozen meters away, storm function on my armor activating as I made it up the ramp and hunkered around the corner of a crate secured-down for maneuvers. I flash-fabricated a thirty-second lifespan camera from my omni and stuck it on the side of the crate, streaming to my HUD to watch without exposing myself.

The suit operator's pained screams still rang out, amplified from the speakers and making me uneasy as they got increasingly short-breathed and wet, the baleful howling setting my teeth on-edge. Balls of warp energy lanced out and struck the ship, and the lack of a disintegrated pursuer indicated the GARDIAN emitters had been distorted beyond use. Syella tried making a break for it to the hangar but was caught with a throw and stumbled, only for the biotic charge from the justicar to send her to the floor afterwards. I got out of cover as she advanced on the downed asari, dropping to my belly and unslinging my marksman rifle. The heavier shots rung off her barriers, each tap doing little to the re-established if diminished maelstrom but catching her attention long enough for Syella to retaliate.

Blue energy lanced out from the smaller asari, a torrent of biotic force that crackled and pushed against the justicars barrier while the smaller form rolled to her feet. Warp-balls flung between the two impacted barriers with distinctive and soul-heavy impacts as Syella backed into the hangar, the justicar's barrier becoming less of a maelstrom and closer to something recognizable with each impact. A dampening tech-dart from me curved around Syella only to be flung away from the barrier, the green-tracered streak expending uselessly against the floor in a shower of sparks. I rolled back behind the crate, taking a moment to refill my gauntlet's supply of omni-gel from a solid brick on my belt, adding the cube of eezo-suspended mix to the secondary slot that the dampening mines required.

 _This ship can't take off with that level of biotics being thrown around. Crew is waiting for this to end one way or another before they try to leave. You need to do something, how many other people died by your actions today. I didn't kill them. You lured her here for a fight, she killed them as they defended themselves, that's on you._

The two asari were now closer, silently trading blows of biotic force rather than warp blasts. Silhouettes of warp energy competed with their barriers on each of them, savaging armor slowly but surely as the fight wore on. For the first time a sound of exertion came from the justicar, the roar of sound coinciding with a biotic shockwave that sent Syella flying back and dropped her barrier to an almost normal level. Once again advancing on her downed target she ignored the shots from my marksman rifle impacting her torso, a throw sending me back when my fire shifted to her face.

I crashed against the end of the bay a few meters back, winded and slumping to the floor. I raised my omni-tool, deciding a mine rather then a dart was a better course of action and preparing it. I was interrupted by the belch of smoke and roar of a omni-gel "distortion" rocket that lanced out from the shipboard entrance to corvettes cargo bay. The glowing munition exploded against the justicar and sent her stumbling back, barrier barely intact and armor blackened from sheer heat. My omni-mine launched and her eyes narrowed, barrier shorting out in the green arcs that erupted as it hit the ground next to her. Assault rifle fire pinged on her armor as purple blood seeped out onto the ground, her form managing to roll to cover to wait out the dampening effects.

Still slumped against the wall I felt the ground shift, the corvette now deciding to make a run for it while her biotics were down. Syella charged into the hangar and ended up stumbling to the floor after emergence, lying spread-eagled in the middle of the bay. The cargo door finished closing and the ship accelerated away, sonic boom inaudible inside as it got higher and higher into the atmosphere. My head throbbed almost as if a reminder, and I gritted my teeth as the medical suite in my suit did little for the bruising, painkillers administered along with medi-gel.

Now coming down from the adrenaline of the fight, my anger rose at the other armored form slumped on the deck. Sympathy and guilt over my actions along with annoyance - and fear - at hers. I shuffled around, refilling the medical suite with one of the medi-gel vials I'd snagged earlier. Images clamoured for attention; the plateless krogan and the downed exo-suit coming to mind to be shoved aside as I focussed my thoughts. Doing so brought the need to vomit after the days events out, bile rising in my throat that I forced myself to swallow. Armored footsteps sounded on the bay floor, and I glanced up at the form walking towards me.

"Hey, who let you guys on anyways. Not complaining since your asari's probably the only reason we got off-planet, but we don't exactly deal with strangers usually."

I looked up at the speaker, an average-height guy wearing the same armor as the rest of the group including his helmet, rifle held casually and the barrel still glowing from the omni-rocket it had launched.

I fumbled for a second as I tried to speak, mouth not quite working until I steadied myself for a few seconds. "The officer at the gate who wasn't wearing a helmet, I didn't get a name before she let us in. Thanks for getting us out."

Trying to be careful with my words and not upset our rescuers, I popped my helmet off and set the folded object back on its shoulder mount before broaching the next subject. "Sorry about the guys who, well, died. That's not how we wanted things to go."

 _Smooth work, seems you have a knack for making friends today._

Weirdly enough, he waved it off with a dismissive gesture and un-upset tone. "Eh, new guys to the crew always have a high turnover rate. It's best not to get attached, how about the two of ya come up and I'll show ya the captain. He wants to talk and its best not to keep him waiting."

Nodding, I spared a glance at Syella as she walked up to stand on in front of me on the left. Glancing around in the more relaxed conditions during the trip I began to examine the surroundings. Small ship with a small cargo bay, the back entrance having a staircase leading to the upper deck that the crewman had arrived from. Entering the upper deck was a close to standard corvette config, a hallway with various stations on either side and officers' quarters and pod rooms behind us. Strolling past a mix of batarian and human crew members we came up to who I assumed was the captain, a human with a scarred face and glowing cybernetic left eye who turned to speak to us in gravel-sounding tones.

"We'll drop you off at the trade post we hit next, but more the meantime feel free to get yourselves comfortable." He snapped back around with a slightly annoyed motion, something I considered appropriate in the situation.

I nodded, then turned around only to walk smack into a batarian that had silently gotten behind me. An armor-assisted arm smashed into my jaw and sent me sprawling to the floor where I lay without a sound. I saw a flash of light as biotics flared before another impacting sound coincided with the light disappearing, an asari grunting in pain before another thud sounded. A series of curses followed by a scream and an electronic sizzling before a form loomed over my unfocussed vision, heedless of my dazed attempts to roll over.

"You'll pay us back another way." The gravely tones of the captain spoke, but the form looming over me appeared batarian, needle-like teeth visible in a smirk as a glowing orange blob appeared. Said blob coincided with a momentary sting on my neck, and a fleeting second of painful struggle before the world dripped away from my eyes like paint on a canvass.

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 **Horizon Travel Guide: Trinity Falls.**

Welcome to the Horizon Tourist Bureau local extranet site! For options please see the settings page or consult your browser's help module.

Trinity Falls is a smaller port-town approximately 682 kilometers from the nearest city of Acadian Sunset. This small town boasts a fluctuating population of approximately 3,000 humans and 3,600 assorted alien species; primarily turian, asari, salarian and batarian.

The town's primary economic contributions are the several smaller spaceport docks, which ship high-end dome-grown dextro foods and luxuries to neary turian colonies and bring in a significant amount of credits to the local economy.

Let one of the local travel agencies provide you with a safe hotel, as while we on Horizon do our best to limit crime and unscrupulous activity, some invariably occurs as a result of species and cultures mixing with high-value products. Do not fear! Trinity Falls is safe despite the rougher edges, though civilians are recommended to carry a firearm simply to not be considered a target.

With exotic bars and clubs, and assortment of available marketing goods often limited in availability, and the rich amount of cultures and species available, Trinity Falls is a prime example of Horizon's tourism industry and fit for you and your friends to explore, blow off steam or just enjoy the independence of the colonies!

TRAVEL ADVISORY: As of 07/04/2182 Trinity Falls was involved in an escalation of conflict between biotic commandos and mercenary gangs that resulted in over 400 assorted casualties; mostly at the hands of local mercenary groups attacking each other and colonial forces in the chaos. Until further notice travel is not advised, and colonial authorities are cracking down on the hub.


	2. Chapter 2 - Carcer

**A/N: Thanks to** **LogicalPremise for interest and feedback. Chapter has been overhauled and may see some minor edits later.** **  
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 _AIS Lab Report: Findings on NS-SU-1/SE-DE-1 (NonSentient-Subservient/supportUnit-1 SEntient-DExtroamino-1)_

 _Analysis of species SE-DE-1 ship wreckage (Cruiser-Light-analog #3) by attached I4 units retrieved a single specimen of an unidentifiable species different than SE-DE-1_

 _Condition of the corpse was moderate. The epidermal and dermal layers are damaged by vacuum exposure and burns (consistent with third and fourth degree over upper torso and neck, minor incidences of second and first degree among body). The anterior end of the torso contains a cauterization wound, though connective muscles and bone structures indicate a tail may of been present and removed prior to death. The limbs are relatively intact aside from the dermal layers, though imaging scans indicate that many of the bone structures are shattered or malformed from trauma. The torso is intact, though stipulations on internal bleeding based on limb trauma and concussive effects of a shockwave likely did moderate damage to organ structure. Surgical dissection yet to be conducted. Neck tissue and bones show clear signs of breaks. Additionally the top of the skull is ripped off and the rest fractured, with the braincase and occipital area being ventilated and the contents subsequently lost._

 _Dermal layer is not notably resilient in regards to modern weaponry. Negligible concerns. The dermal tissue is rather simple and consists of a mix of scutes on the torso with more nominal scales on the limbs. Interestingly each one seems to have a cluster of immuno-derived cells that dissolve rigid structures and assist formation of new tissue, allowing the specimen to grow and upsize its plating without shedding skin._

 _The body plan of the organism contained 2 lines of external symmetry along the torso and limbs, a ridge of pentagonal plates among the ventral surface of the abdomen serving as a distinction there along with a gradual curve of a horseshoe towards the dorsal side . The head and neck lines up with the cauterized wound we assume held a tail, and serves as the only exterior distinction for that direction. The limbs are jointed to allow easy bipedal and quadrupedal movement, with hands that have 2 fingers and two opposed thumb-like digits._

 _The skull is interesting, unfortunately the braincase and top side were too damaged for analysis, but the 4-boned jaw is interesting enough and provided some insight. Teeth are a mix of four-pronged spikes and triangular cutting edges, and seem to be retractable into the gum. The shape of the head is slightly triangular, reminding me somewhat of a camen with more bulk. Possibly a fish-eater given the dentition and jaw shape, which would support the quadrupedal stance. There are what appear to be sections of eye sockets and two smaller unknown gaps in the skull, though the entire area is too damaged for an accurate read. I'd hypothesize two primary eyes supplanted by 4 smaller eyes split into pairs, though without an intact specimen or access to better facilities I cannot be sure._

 _Comment: Overall the primitive structural support of the legs and the cauterized tail make me assume this was a pet or some sort of support animal. Likely picked up from another planet and kept around for novelty or abilities and fed and housed like we would a support dog._

 _SIG-ID: Dr. Erik Yoeu_

* * *

Date: ?/04/2182 Gregorian Calendar, Unknown system.

For the second time in a row I woke up from induced unconsciousness. A chill had settled in, and I could smell the unpleasant combination of blood and unwashed beings. Feeling came back to me slowly as senses suddenly registered before my eyes were able to open or my limbs were able to move. Rolling over sent a pang of nausea that was quickly swallowed up in haste by hunger, the irrational chill remained, limbs and abdomen covered in bruises while the flesh on my arms was ragged, a thin layer of skin regrown by the medi-gel but crisscrossed in a spiderweb and patchwork of lacerations, scabs and scars.

I pushed myself into a sitting position against the metal wall, slowly cracking my eyes open a little. I ignored the uncomfortable bright blur that the world became, useless at helping me determine my location or situation. The tickle of memories became a flood a second later, bodies and chases and pain and asari that blurred together. The worst one-night stand in my life followed by a day of hectic violence and disgusting actions contributing to my current state.

 _Well, presumably you're in a cell on the corvette you escaped on, it's possible that you did something to piss off the captain, or he just doesn't trust you and tossed you in the brig. Or Syella did something worse, and you're both locked up because of it._

My vision finally clearing up and let me look around and kill any good spirits, locked in a ship's cell stripped of my armor and omni-tool. I rolled my neck to relieve the stiffness but hit something along the way, something cold and uncomfortable against my neck. I stopped and brought my hand up, confused and curious about the situation. Fuck. Most of my pain disappeared in a flood of adrenaline as I frantically tugged around the edges of the slavers collar; vainly searching for a flaw, a weakness, a defect in the construction or a hope that it was cheaper material from a shitty omni-foundry so I could get the thing off. About five seconds in and my hands apparently had better things to do as the collar shocked me. I fell to the side as muscles seized and spasmed, the finger I'd slipped under to pry nearly dislocated from the sudden motion.

The torment stopped, my breathing hiked and my hair feeling distinctly static-ridden along with an annoying itching sensation behind my eyeballs. I decided then to leave the collar alone, nothing I could do without my omni-tool that wouldn't end with more electrocution. Calming myself I took a look around and investigated the cell. The bars were way too thick to bend and probably made of something strong enough to avoid it anyways, but the electronic lock on the cell doors could be an exploited weakness provided I'd actually had an omni-tool. Currently it was only a taunt and annoyance as thoughts of slipping a key off a baited guard vanished like the vid-influenced hopes they were. Turning my eyes inward to the cell revealed a small room, only a few meters across each direction and slightly wider than it was deep. Small toilet in one corner along with a sink, water-rationing spout on the faucet.

I looked to the other corner of the room and saw Syella, the asari curled up in the corner on her side asleep, armor also stripped off and neck clad in a bulkier collar I assumed contained a dampening field. Thankfully her clothes were still on, but I really couldn't assume she was fine given I had no idea how long I'd been out for. Medleys of mixed emotions and feelings fought for a response. Pity for another being, anger at her for dragging me into this mess, regret for my actions towards her upon waking up, guilt at what I thought would be an escape resulting in the pair of us stuck in a slavers hold on a corvette. For now, the best I could do was wait, let my tentative companion sleep and try to figure out something when an opportunity presented itself. Washing up as best I could with the sink's measly ration and hoping the mess of skin on my arms didn't get infected took priority, along with waiting for an escape opportunity.

* * *

Uncountable hours of absolute boredom, listening to the quiet humming of the drive core as we cruised in FTL. One guard had walked by an hour ago and noticed I was awake but hadn't said anything, a sneer plastered across his four-eyed face. I'd glared at him and received another charge from the shock collar in return, the fuck's laughter as he walked away worse than the stinging sensation if only because one of them could be dealt with via slightly shifting the collar to scratch my neck. The next time he walked by around an hour later I kept my head down, the action taking more effort then I would have liked.

 _Syella's either still asleep or they hit her pretty hard, I'm assuming still asleep given her position and even breathing. If I can figure out a way to get that collar off we can burn through the corridors, but I don't know If we can do it._

A grunt of pain in the corner, my cellmate finally waking up. I turned around to take stock in her situation, noticing the series of electrical burns on protruding contact points along her neck and limbs. Shuffling into a position to watch as much of the hallway as I could while working my dried-out throat to a speak was unpleasant but necessary.

Speaking hurt, each word taking its toll. "How long was I out? I think a few hours, can't really be certain about that..."

She shifted into the corner and turned so her left side face the door, staring at me with a mixture of annoyance and relief. "Not too long Nikolai, I was a bit worried given the cut on your head, probably still should be. I'm sorry, my human medical knowledge is about as short as my resume."

 _Surprised she doesn't want to kill you given the private dock was your idea. You really should of just hijacked a shuttle idiot, or tried to goose-chase her in the city._

I let slip some sarcasm. "Worried about me? Would have expected you'd blame me for our lovely accommodations." Her expression got worse, probably not the best idea to bring up. My luck held in that it only consisted of a sour look.

She pulled her knees into her chest, calves crossed as the top of her head dipped down to rest her forehead on them. Her voice was flat, lack of the panicked or remorseful inflections, probably not the best state if she'd resigned herself in a slavers cargo hold. "Considering the justicar, I don't particularly blame you for trying a bad option to get us off-planet. Least she won't be able to kill us on some terminus backwater, maybe we'll consider it a mercy if she ever does."

I spoke, trying to keep her morale up. Whether it was the confidence of youth assuming every situation had a way out, or my own selfish desire to survive was irrelevant. "There's got to be something we can do to get out of here. Breakout on holding, wait for a transfer, see if there's any other slaves in here who can fight. Something."

Her head tilted back up and I met her gaze, blue eyes with flecks of silver staring into my own. "They dragged in a group of humans while you were out, wildcat miners is the term? Already unconscious but the gear following them in was enough of a wave to crest the tidepool. Nobody else drags mineral scanners and eezo digging tools around the traverse but doesn't have an escort. One had the same collar as mine and might be a biotic, though he looked pretty badly beat."

 _She looks less resigned. Careful still, no plans of discussion at current until you figure out whether they have any ears in the cell._

Her lips had started to bleed as she was speaking, the lack of water not doing the alien any favors. I made a note to myself to ensure that she got more of the water rations from the faucet, she'd need it more for biotics than I would. I relaxed as I tried to see what else I could remember, once again interrupted by the same stabbing pain behind the eyes. Still reeling I caught a trace of the sympathetic look from the previous morning, only opening my eyes to the sound of footsteps on the deck.

I heard the batarian's voice before he stepped into view along with a silent human. "Both the little scums are awake at last. Captain was pretty pissed you got his daughter killed outside, took some extra pleasure in ordering you two's accommodations." Four eyes settled on the asari, and his voice got a touch deeper. "Too bad he wanted you in prime condition for sale, or the two-eyed bastard would have upped crew morale and let us have a little fun first, scales are always enjoyable to break in once you got a dampening collar on."

I avoided a shudder at the image that came to mind, the memory of a desperate gaze up into my own as skin flushed and tears rolled. Syella's response was an insult based on drowning oneself in a whirlpool, and the batarian took on an annoyed glance for a second before the same smirk emerged, needle-like teeth bared. A wave of his omni-tool and her collar sparked alive with arcs of energy, sending her toppling to the side from her tucked-in position. Five seconds of screams later and he stopped, Syella taking the moment to roll out onto her stomach and push up.

Another shock sent her slamming into the floor, purple blood spilling from a now broken nose. The floor muffled her screams but did nothing for the spasms as limbs and muscles twitched, the shock lasting for a second before my reaction. I lost it for a second and threw myself at the bars, arms unable to reach through and instead gripping the bars with murderous intent. The batarian laughed, an ugly sounding ruckus that only made me growl in return, the apparently younger human seeming put-off by the scene. I turned around to check on her as the torture stopped, coming to two meters away before my own collar activated.

I tilted forwards as my legs turned to jelly, the smaller form protesting with a grunt-scream as I collided with her back in throes of pain, silent at the cost of my badly bitten tongue. A second later my spams led me to roll off her mercifully, smaller form shuffling into the corner by itself as the fire in my neck continued before cutting off. I thought I caught a pitiful glance from the younger human as he walked away.

 _Good - well, good something that hurt, I'd imagine my neck looks pretty nasty under the collar from that. In brighter news, there seems to be a moral dilemma there, perhaps Syella or I can do something about the kid._

I let Syella recover in silence, her form hunched sideways in the corner with arms over head. I tried to draft an escape plan, throwing aside dozens due to lack of information or resources before finally thinking of one. I recoiled at it almost as soon as I processed it, the primary action stooping to the same level that necessitated my still-present guilt from rage-firm hands wrapped around a bloodied throat. I took a deep breath, losing a bit of myself as I realized that there probably wasn't anything better, no choice that would work perfectly. Nothing I could influence would work, at least not with the shock collars and not without an omni tool. I could process and deal with it later, stress doing its job to keep me focused on the task rather than spiral off topic. These were _slavers_ , why should I care what happened to them? I'd shot someone for less, for a damn job… Pushing that aside, but still feeling stained by what I'd intended, and what I needed to ask of a demon stuck in the same cell as me.

 _Sleep first before you discuss this, I doubt Syella's going to take the plan well. I can't think of anything else dammit, I can't hack the lock with nothing, no biotics to break the bars and no ways in or out of the cell except the door._

* * *

An indiscernible amount of time later I awoke in a panicked start, flanging higher-pitched screeches ringing through the small ship as another set of victims were pulled in. I pressed to the bars to get a glance, staring at the results. Two turian adults with matching clan markings, one male and one female with relatively standard builds. Silvery carapace on the male but an interesting dull orange on the female's own, her darker plates lending a noticeable contrast. My gut sank at the collars stuck on their unconscious forms as they were dragged by a pair of crewmen each and shoved into cells further down the line, sounds of two doors indicating separate prisons being used for each. I'd not noticed the discrepancy of unconscious people making noises until the next set came in.

Whatever traces of hesitation left at discussing my plan with Syella were forgotten in a mere instant as the pair of bound turian kids were dragged in by the next set of crewmen - no - _slavers_. Small, meter-high mini-turians with splintered plates and blue blood dripping as they writhed in the grip of larger captors before being roughly tossed into a cell together like refuse. My translator wasn't doing anything with the sounds I'd realized weren't actual words at the scene occurring outside my sightline, and I didn't know whether to be comforted or disturbed by that. Kids, actual kids thrown into a cell bleeding and crying as their unconscious parents were separated. I shuffled into the corner, going back to sleep as Syella had already done so, arms over her aural clefts to presumably keep the sounds from haunting her dreams. I didn't blame her, the high-pitched warbles surfacing before I could drift off several times.

* * *

The next wakeup was less pleasant, the flanging of one of the parents calling for their kids before a booming voice responded with "Shut up" over the intercom and everyone's collars went off. Screams of different inflections filled my ears as I strained to avoid my own, eventually just letting out a scream. One single cry of pain to spare my tongue and lose what dignity I had maintained living in a damned cell. The shock just continued, a lesson to the whole goddamn cargo to shut the hell up. Unwilling to go to sleep again I pushed Syella with a foot. Prone body moving slightly as she glanced towards me.

I panicked at the sight of her eyes, ringed in black with purple veins pushing out. Backing away and scrambling to my corner as fast as I could in sheer terror before I consciously realized it was just a reflex, and that the collar would stop anything biotic anyways. I crawled across the floor sheepishly to sit next to her. Uncomfortably close, though the smell of unwashed asari helped keep me from drifting away to other thoughts. I leaned in to whisper.

"I have a plan." Brilliance. Such a morale-boosting statement with a plethora of information on details and survival it had the predicted effect. A blank glance from eyes returning to normal and a flicker of hope that quickly died to suspicion.

A conspirators whisper in return. "Well Nikolai, what exactly is your plan?"

 _I expected more swears at a vague statement like that, she must be getting desperate, biotic not getting food even with that fucking collar keeping them in check, hell she probably eats as much as me and I outweigh her by a lot._

I hesitated, pitifully aware that it wasn't an actual plan by any stretch of the word. At best it was a few ideas shoved together from desperation and the boredom of the cage. I proceeded with utmost care to avoid sounding like an insensitive jackass, trying not to make it sound too blunt. "Seduce the nervous guard-" Nothing, probably because she looked too tired to do anything. "- convince him to dial down the dampener for some fun and grab the omni-tool bracelet. Open the damn locks, disable collars and use your biotics to blow the fuck out of this cell, grabbing and arming the other prisoners with whatever we scrounge off the guards. Turians should fight."

She looked pissed at best, first time I'd actually seen her looking good and angry at something. Asking her to offer herself to a slaving guard as bait probably wasn't a good idea, but the best I'd come up with in assuming he'd be inexperienced enough to assume some stereotypes given her species. Not to mention the young man had looked the most at-ill about this and probably would be the least suspicious seduction target given he hadn't had a turn playing with the shock collars. A play on his guilt and naivety with a bit of luck and desperation, then hope for the best. I had no idea what she'd actually do to be effective, but unsaid was even doing what she'd done to me would be enough to put the kid out of the fight and get him close enough to the door to swipe his omni-tool.

 _Scary asari mind-shit. You do realize how morally depraved this is?_

Her head whipped towards me as fast as it could with the collar, voice a low but sharp whisper as she spoke. "You want me to whore myself to a slaving bottom feeder? To leave a mark so you have a chance to get out? To use the condition I've tried to repress my entire life to purposely torture a kid exactly like the monsters they ship to a monastery?" Eyes slipped to black and immediately sent me on edge, and I heeded. Backing up as best as I could while still sitting to the point of almost scrambling away as she prowled forwards, eventually pinning me to a corner where I finally got the nerve to speak, my intended calm response going down the drain as I finally snapped at her, sick of the conflict I'd felt before and pissed at our circumstance.

I barely managed to keep my voice at a whisper, rage diluting the control. "Yes Syella. You already fucked me over and it's our only chance to get out of this shit. We have _nothing else_. No omni-tools, no biotics until we get rid of your collar, nobody who cares enough to rescue us and even if that justicar somehow tracked the ship down do you think she'd spare any of us in our current states? Do you? I'd rather not get executed by a biotic juggernaut we barely escaped from the first time! Or suffer another violation you from one of you mind-fucking freaks!"

I'd risen up to use my height despite her having me backed into the corner. My tirade at an end, the same look of fear that haunted me briefly flashing at something larger than her being aggressive. We stared at each other, winding down from the tense situation as she finally backed away after a minute of uncomfortable positioning. Her expression became more thoughtful expression as I calmed down visibly, as she seemed to be considering the options for herself. Nervously glancing around the cell and focusing on the electronic lock and bars before letting out a rather human-like sigh, the common cross-legged pose and slow methodical gaze.

Before she could respond I made another point. "I'm sorry, that was excessive but I'm still conflicted Syella. I've known you for what's probably less than a few days and things haven't exactly gone well. We need you to do this, you saw they have damn kids in here. That's gotta count for something, even if you won't do for the fucking one-night-stand do it for them.

A sigh as her head dipped down again, leaning her right shoulder against the metal wall. "I'm goddess-damned aware Nikolai." Her voice had normalized, and with a shift in her resigned posture to a less passive stance she gave a proper answer. "I'll do it."

Nodding, I did as best to interject as much kindness as I could muster in the circumstance. "Thanks Syella. We'll get out of this somehow. They'll slip up eventually and we owe each other enough from this mess to get out of it."

I surprised myself afterwards by moving closer and hugging her, the initial stiffness of surprise relaxing as she returned the gesture. It was nice so long as the collars didn't get in the way, a simplistic gesture of comfort and contact despite everything. Last time I'd got a hug was just over three years ago when I'd left earth, a final gathering a few close friends slipping in to say goodbyes on short notice. I stifle a sigh, far too long. Catching up to the fact that we were both unwashed, uncomfortable, bloodied and wounded we split back to our corners. I didn't trust her yet, but I felt more amicable. Boredom again took root, depressing against thoughts of freedom or escape.

* * *

An unbearably annoying time of waiting was measured only by the time the sink rations took to refill, then the ship popping out of FTL. The deceleration noticeable with the cheaper inertial dampeners as the change in background hum also coincided. Hearing footfalls from above - must be heavy armor - and deciding to make the most of it I caught Syella's attention before nodding myself to sleep, indication it was her turn for the impromptu "watch". Drifting off took longer than I hoped, the hunger getting worse as my body tried to heal without a proper supply of food. Finally slipping to black took too long, the shock long worn off and the colourful menagerie of nightmares having plenty of recent fuel.

The whining of a collar's discharge woke me up, eyes flicking awake to glance at my cellmate lying on the floor, not enough strength to do much other then spasm as the shocks worked her over due to our lack of food. I looked out the bars and saw a human slaver walking away, leaving the two of us alone again and probably confident the now-floored asari had been punished for whatever slight they'd determined. Rolling her into the corner with as much care as I could muster received no response, with her eyes far too glossy to be healthy. I took my allocated faucet ration and returned to the cage's bars to investigate the hallway while I seethed. Too hungry to do much other then wait at this point. Footsteps. Swallowing the moment of fear and replacing it with anger, unwilling to give them what they wanted and steeling myself for just enough slack.

 _I need to stop resisting, does it even buy me anything if they come back again? I should conserve my energy and keep my head down, anything to last a bit longer. No, you won't give in and start the breaking process. They haven't chipped you yet and probably don't have the injectors for them. Or I'm unchipped because the buyer wants slaves to break themselves, only sane reason to take individuals off a firefight being the breaking of someone who isn't as soft._

The kid walked by, either his actual turn on the shift or sent down when the one who shocked Syella went up. I didn't care and throwing aside what reservations I had I did something stupid and spoke up.

"She needs food." The words were out of my mouth surprisingly quick, and I cringed in preparation for a shock that never came. Instead I got a blank look, but the trace of unease I thought I saw made me push my luck further, hoping something would go well.

"She's asari, without her biotics she doesn't need to eat as much but she still isn't meant to go as long as a human or turian without something to eat. She won't be in a good state for whatever your plans are, it won't be a good sale if she starves to death onboard." Hastily averted eyes as the kid shuffled on his feet for a moment, then heel-turned and walked away. I buried my face at the action, the sting of tear ducts suppressed as I clenched my fists to try and stop them.

 _You stupid fuckup, you might of just ruined your entire fucking plan with that stunt. He'll be back with the other guards, offer something else to satisfy the 'hunger' or whatever sick innuendo gets made at her expense._

I was interrupted by the sound of something hitting the metal floor. I braced myself for a flash grenade, for death if they'd thrown an explosive in, for something painful or disgusting or … Syella grunted. I opened my eyes to the most wonderful sight in who knew how long. Meal bars, four on the ground while a quick-acting Syella stuffed her face in the corner with the fifth, desperately trying to regain lost calories and energy reserves for a metabolism used to a constant supply of food from the ocean's coast and rivers. Grabbing one of the bars for myself I hesitated a second. Poison? Something to degrade? No. Not from the kid, not when they had better ways.

A small tentative bite made me smile at the taste, flavorless grit that reminded me of the protein vats I'd scrounged on the citadel before finding a job, or when short on cash anyways. Only no cricket-like keepers meandering around me on whatever mission they seemed fit to run for the station. Eating slowly as to not upset my stomach I finished the bar and snapped roughly two thirds of another off before throwing it to Syella. She'd need the calories a lot more for biotics than I would to run and hold a trigger, and my survival likely depended on her biotics in any regard. Hiding the remaining one and two thirds bars that we saved in whatever sections of our clothing we could noticeably perked our spirits. The hunger still a constant companion but reduced to a small ache easily shoved away rather than consuming my thoughts. The boredom was still the worst though. No overt talking for risk of another round of global shocks as an attempt to stop plans of dissent and to keep our morale down despite being thrown into cells in pairs.

* * *

After an unknowable amount of time I'd realized something; we had yet to re-enter FTL. Whatever business on-planet or on-station had yet to be concluded. A possible explanation for the lack of the usual batarian guards and just the kid and other human coming by. Events luckily coincided with my thoughts as the doors opened, a flurry of voices from the crew reaching through as two batarians came walking in, dragging something behind them.

There's a certain wonder, a certain shiver that I'd always had at seeing a new species that helped me tolerate the protein vats for my first week on the citadel. The last thing I'd expected in our fucking slave pen was to see an alien I couldn't identify from my time on that station. Lizard-like and probably reptilian, a camen-like head with six eyes. Twice the length of my own neck was covered by the same collar model as those on the turian's, the connection leading into a blocky symmetrical torso studded in plates, with no discernible clothing aside from a utility sash. Limbs were at an odd angle, better than an early tetrapod in terms of supporting weight but not the straight-supporting stance common among most terrestrial species. A cauterized stump of a scab where I'd assumed a tail would be served as the main distinguishing part of the being's rear, the torso otherwise identical aside from it and the heads placement. I looked at a limb as it was dragged past, four-digit hands with two paired sets of fingers. I had no idea what the hell it was, but it looked mean - slow if the leg stance was an indication - but still mean. Semi-disgusted as I was for another being to end up in the same boat as us, I didn't bother to suppress the flicker of happiness.

I shuffled closer to my asari cellmate, both our spirits and body language looking better than they had any other time since our capture, a side effect of the food and irrational giddiness making me willing to take the risk for some whispered conversation. "Syella, you've been around a lot longer than I have. What species were they?"

She looked slightly less surprised than me to see the new capture, but not so surprised as a new species but rather surprise at seeing one of them here. "That's a zom, one of the turian's client races without any care from the council." A quizzical tilt to the right and shuffle. "Odd, I've never seen one outside of turian space before."

 _Of everything I'd expected to see on this slavers boat that was pretty low on the list. I'm actually somewhat happy to see them - sick as it sounds._

Nothing to do and not in a mood to sleep I sat in the corner, keeping watch as Syella nodded off in a fetal position in her corner, back turned out towards me. Hours passed as I tried to relax and clear my mind, occasionally stretching out a limb and testing muscles to see how I was faring. I was on my back with my toes and legs up as the ship dropped out of FTL again, I frowned, not remembering when it had engaged it and realizing that I'd not made the connection to the core's hum. With the sound of armored boots I expected another set of unlucky victims to get dragged in, or buyers. I tensed as I prepared for massive krogan to come in with hungry eyes, or batarians with control-chip implant devices.

Instead the captain finally showed his face for the first time since boarding, his grey beard and cybernetic eye replacement reminding me of some old game I'd played as a kid. I stayed in my corner to avoid an outburst or inflammatory action, simply resting took more control than normal, muscles tensed as I subconsciously prepared to spring and fight despite my intent. Said captain was at the rear of the group - my glare had flicked to him first as the cybernetic stuck out - behind several assorted crewmen armed and waiting. The same taunting batarian who'd tormented us with the shock collar strode up to begin pacing the floor between cells as he spoke.

"We're at our compound. All you two-eyed gravel-bits get a meal bar now so you look in better shape when the purchasers come to pick you up. I heavily suggest you resist, the shock collars are always a fun demonstration to your fellow captives. An attempt by any of you will result in all sharing the immediate punishment, though we may make an exception for the asari."

 _Don't do anything, you'll have a chance for escape during transfer, or afterwards. A chance with the buyers, a chance on the next ship. There's a chance somewhere, giving up isn't how you find it._

Syella flinched slightly at the last statement. One of the slavers I didn't recognize started throwing meal bars around. Four landed in our cell, we split them and hid one each while eating the other as quick as possible. No way to see how many everyone else got, if they were feeding by species or resistance or just randomly. One of the cells electronic locks beeped, the sound of omni-darts firing in sequence afterwards and a muffled pulsing sound. Two batarian crew appeared in my field of view, pulling the unconscious zom out by the hind legs while its head and arms lolled back across the floor. We sat waiting for a few minutes, another set of opening doors and we watched the turian kids dragged out by a muscled human and batarian, small but plated limbs flailing useless against the armor. Another few minutes, the batarian standing in our doorway as it opened, me almost rushing him before deciding better of it with a suppressed flinch. It didn't seem to matter, a raised gauntlet as a dart pricked my neck. The same blackness I'd fallen into before came slower, and I was only aware for few precious seconds as I felt something lift me while as world once again dripped down my eyes.

* * *

Noise came back first, incoherent murmuring with unusual pitches and languages. Cold chills as nausea came to the forefront only to be in turn replaced by a headache. Realizing I'd been given a lesser dose this time I pushed my eyes open, the much brighter room than the ship immediately slamming into me before subsisting as I flickered them shut in a staccato of blinks. Pulling myself into a sitting position against the same type of bars as on the ship I finally got a look around. We were in a prefab warehouse, though the cargo area was empty and filled with a series of cages housing a variety of beings stuck in the same mess I was throughout two rows of four cages each. Skinny batarians shrunk in fear of their own kind filled the nearest and only cage on my left, five of the four-eyed aliens packed into the same cage like animals and huddling in the center, looking resigned at their fate.

 _This isn't what I expected. I can't feel a chip, for some reason. Also, only a few cages must be some sort of gilded auction, or we're dealing with some serious bottom-feeders. Hopefully the latter._

My own cage contained another three humans - two men and one woman, all unconscious - one of the guys having the same biotic-nullifying collar as Syella. The wildcat miners presumably, still out since they got dragged here after me. I looked past them to the cage across and saw the turian family in a cage, but with a subdivided wall keeping the chicks and adults separate so that the kids could be accessed easier. Next to the turians after an empty cage on the right the now-awake zom prowled back and forth, not alone in the cell as a terrified-looking drell sat frozen in the corner. Finally finishing the sweep to my right saw Syella in the far corner of a cage, pointedly trying not to glance at the unmoving asari on the ground in the middle. Purple skin in far less clothing and with a lot more visible cuts, and I almost retched when I saw blood on the small of her back and thighs. Leaning against my own prison to take calming breaths as to not waste energy and fluids, dull-ache flaring behind my eyes and making it harder.

 _Am I still having moral qualms about doing anything to escape? After that scene you better not, there's no reason to hold back if you get out. Compartmentalize, call that image up if you hesitate, though you don't hesitate on the trigger if your job history is any indication, no you can't deal with it afterwards._

I checked the rest of the room, only noticing two guards in the corners, one being the uncomfortable-looking kid from the corvette. We hadn't been able to do anything in transit because of the drugs and I glanced at Syella, trying to catch her attention without alerting the guards. We had to gamble if waiting for the wildcat miners to wake up was worth more guards possibly coming along, but it was on her at this point. All I could do was sit and wait, hope the other asari in the cage served as a reason to act.

I leaned over the closest wildcat and gently prodded the side of their face. A few minutes later and the woman in the cage stirred, a second of uneasy motion before bolting up and looking around. I glanced at her two companions, silently nodding she copied my efforts on the biotic. A gasp and grunt of pain spoke of his arrival to this realm only a few seconds before my patient lunged up suddenly, groggily swinging an arm and catching my nose. Cartilage crushed and I fell over backwards, scrambled over by the woman as she went to assist her teammate.

I clutched my nose and saw the kid coming over to check on the incident, waving him off to the side as he was by the next cage over. He turned towards the wall and began to walk, stopping to analyze each cage and looking away from the batarian one. I watched with interest as he closed in on the asari cage, absentmindedly munching on one of the meal bars I'd stashed. I stopped for a second, snapping off a chunk and throwing it to the biotic who received it with a confused and distrusting glance before snapping it up.

Syella was talking to the guard. I swallowed my nerves, forced myself to be ready and attentive if anything occurred. The same pressed-together legs and crossed calves, slightly favoring her left side as she talked to the slaver, the kid. He looked confused, worrying me that things wouldn't go well. I couldn't hear her whisper but I saw the kid get closer, leaning into the bars now as she talked. His face took on an agitated look as my hopes fell, only for her to gesture to the purple asari in the center and receive guilty expression in return. Now moved as close to the door as I could while still seeing, they went to the other side of her cage out of sight from the corner guard.

Smart on her part, which didn't exactly sit well. Another few seconds of conversation, her body language changing between pleading and sultry as the kid slowly became more malleable. His omni-tool flared, and he finally moved in. I couldn't see her eyes go black, but I saw the tension, saw her figure clench as the kid's inexperience proved his downfall and he fell to the floor, dead or unconscious. Nonetheless Syella had his arm and his omni-tool and the a few seconds later her collar fell off, coming apart at the hinge. A warp burned through the lock on her door as the other asari now finally moved, shuffling as far away from Syella as she could with frantic motions.

The other slaves all noticed, and the snippets of conversation attracted the other guard. Raising his rifle, the human advanced towards the now-free Syella. His stupidity saved us as a stasis field came into place around him.

 _That could have went worse, her biotics are back and the two guards are immobilized. Just try not to think too hard about the kid, probably best not to check if he's alive or not. I don't have time to anyways._

Syella spoke to the group, clipped tone audible through the murmurs. "Everyone off the locks and be quiet. I'm warping them down and we're killing all the scum and getting out of this damned tide-pool."

Syella was dealing with the situation now, shooting the other asari a cursory glance that sent them scrambling to begin work on the turian's cage. The omni-tool lifted from the kid did its job as collars were disarmed and fell off, the lack of security functions on it a blessing for us and a curse for the slavers. My collar was off, the lock burned out by the other asari's biotics. I ran over to the guard in stasis to grab his tool. Then Syella let the biotic in our cage out first so she could start on the drell and zom's cage. Seven seconds to free each captive with a simple circular process on the tool, and within half a minute I'd freed two of the wildcats and was working on the third. I'd just finished with him and was turning to help the remaining batarians when their collars activated, the normal electrical shock now an aggressive surge that burned out the collar before it exploded. Brown blood dripped from the stumps and I looked away.

Fourteen of us alive with three in bad shape, and I crushed the thought of arming the turian kids before I could rationalize it. The drell sat in a corner still as a rock while muttering something. The other asari was trembling and unfocused, and one of the batarians had a shattered and useless arm. Someone with claws had seen free to rip out the stasis-locked slavers throat while I hadn't been paying attention, and the red-covered talons of the female turian made me inclined to believe it was her.

 _Well, she's getting into the spirit more than you are, let her have the moment, they took her kids after all._

The batarian with the broken arm started. "Racist asari! You and your human pet freed us last, only because of our species! You're no better than the-" His voice was cut off, the male turian lifting him clean off his feet by the neck and glaring, mandibles flickering in unison with quivering annoyance.

The turian chirped for attention, I stayed quiet, letting the individual with more military experience speak. "We're free for now, but they're going to be coming at us soon. Biotics, we need you at first. We rush them before they can react and gear up, looting theirs as they fall. Everyone unarmed stay at the back and watch our flanks, omni-tools use whatever they have onboard."

Nobody protested, the adult turians each grabbed one of the guard's assault rifles while the female wildcat claimed the pistol. Three biotics, three armed individuals, two with omni-tools after Syella handed her acquired omni-tool to one of the batarians. Notably not the problematic one. No time for conversation as we all followed the turians, exiting the corner door and heading into the corridor. I just hoped they didn't have grenades or a squad support weapon at the base. I hadn't seen any on them before except for a few flash-bangs and the one Avenger with an omni-rocket mod, but that was in the corvette and docking area.

 _At least it's a lot quicker to go down by LMG then to end up at some terminus thugs arena or private slave army._

One of the wildcats spoke up as we jogged. Male, non-biotic moving in the middle despite the lack of a weapon. "Standard model for this prefab layout has an armory on the second floor. We get up there and we've got a better chance at escape if we can grab some gear and sabotage the rest.

 _Sounds like a good idea, hopefully we get there before them and things may actually work._

"Or we give them more time to kill us with their ship." Problematic batarian had a point, but the sneer in his voice and the glare from the miners in response threatened to escalate.

I decided to speak up before the argument devolved further and before the turians could exacerbate it. "We can hit the armory and get our personal gear back. If they notice us going for the ship and dig in we won't last, if we raid the armory we limit what they have and what any stragglers can use."

 _You're not military, sure trying to make calls is a good idea? No, but I needed to do something before those idiots screwed things up or started fighting._

The haptic panel glowed green as the tech-assigned batarian overwrote it, rest of us staying back. Turians and biotics at the front, rest of us behind them with me and the zom at the front of that group.

The door opened, and a barrier sprang to life from Syella just as our combatants rushed through. The hallway led to a warehouse section full of cargo crates and two slavers who went down almost immediately to biotics, hurled across the room by throws. One human was dead as evidenced by the skewed neck while the batarian bounced, more physically able to take the impact and not snap anything. The wildcat miner was already showing fatigue from the simple action, and I wondered how long his biotics would last us. Syella kept the barrier up, the two turians gunning down the surprised slavers in the room.

I slid behind a stack of crates, focusing on where the last target was before launching a low-quality overload dart at the batarian. His shields and comms shorted out, body lifted into the air by biotics and sawed in half by rifle fire. I looked around to assess our side, the human biotic having been caught at some point during the fight and killed, left side of his torso a pulped mess. I looked away and got up, two assault rifles and two pistols gained for one of our biotics. Rifles went to the Zom and a wildcat, pistols to Syella and the Drell. One of the omni-tools was salvageable but lacked more than a basic kinetic barrier, but the rest had bionetic locks we couldn't deal with.

"We move now, slowing down only helps them."

The female turian took the lead, more of the group now in the front as we moved along. I glanced at Syella but she seemed focused on the turians, and I kept my gaze on them as well. We crawled up the hallway quickly, and the slavers who were waiting in side-rooms up ahead had the perfect time to fire off a pair of carnage rounds into our group. Red flames and smoke filled the corridor as the drells chest exploded into red and green chunks before a chittering death rattle pushed out, and the other asari only managed to put up a barrier before getting hit and knocked to the ground.

Hitting the deck behind the now-crouching turians I launched an overload dart over their heads, and the crackling I received in return indicated at least one kinetic barrier had failed before the pair of shotguns started to bark. I focused on keeping my head down, only launching darts and the occasional mine over my fellow escapees. Syella was doing her best with a barrier bubble but each impact was taxing the exhausted asari, and the cover the slavers had in their doorways made it take far too long and too many rounds before a lucky overload from me and neural shock from the batarian escapee had one on the floor to be killed.

One down, and I tagged the other with a dart that he rolled across the hall to avoid, a mistake as the turians burst from behind the barrier and shredded through his shields and armor. Weapons fire continued to sound from somewhere and I glanced around confused, noting the pair of shotgun-toting slavers that had got behind us. Problematic batarian died in a spray of brown blood from a shotgun slug that punched through his torso, the female slaver letting out a victorious yell as she fired. A carnage round caught our other asari, her weak barrier crumbling from the impact and leaving her open for the slug that severed her neck a second later. The turians had turned around to bring their rifles to bear, but with no cover from this direction we lost one of wildcats to the same female slaver, our lack of kinetic barriers except on the zom who'd taken the weak-shielding tool a hindrance.

The neural shock dart I fired tagged the slaver, her shields just falling from the turian's rifle fire as she slumped over screaming, executed by the zom. The other slaver was caught in the open, shields going down to the batarian on our side with an omni-tool. A warp slammed into him a second later, softening his armor up for the three assault rifles and a pistol that unloaded into him as the follow-up throw sent his corpse hurling down the corridor.

I picked myself up off the floor, almost slipping on the blood coating the floor without the traction by armor provided, bare feet and clothes coated in stuff I'd rather not think about. I looked around as we started to move again, down to just ten of us.

The batarian escapee with the omni-tool spoke up, gruff voice quieter than expected. "We're almost at the armory, someone cover the door while others get actual armor on. We'll finally have some shields."

I ignored the pain behind my eyes, following the turians and keeping watch on our rear and the turian kids with the Zom. Every door on the way to the armory was a gut-wrenching nightmare, another potential ambush as we passed by.

 _Its luck I've survived this far, that they haven't had any grenades on them and wiped our merry little unshielded group out._

We finally came across the armory door, unguarded and conspicuously available. I didn't particularly care as I saw my gear shoved in the corner and tagged for analysis, still stained with dried blood from my previous action. It was uncomfortable to look at, but no worse than the fresh blood of different species currently covering me. I rushed in and found my omni-tool in the pile, the device thankfully unmolested with only a single failed access attempt. I made sure that the turians and zom watched the door while the rest of us geared up, the only suitable equipment for them being a few kinetic barrier belts and some extra weapons.

 _The turians just gave their kids pistols, I'll try not to think too much on that._

We stepped back out into the hallway, moving out in the same formation and arriving in a larger adjoining room full of empty crates and cages, a secondary storage area. The door on the opposite side opened with a hiss, rifles thundered from our group to strike a kinetic barrier that snapped into place with a hiss. The fire ceased after a few seconds, and those of us with omni-tools prepared overload mines.

Heavy footsteps heralded the captain walking out in a massive black and red hardsuit, HUD reading as Colossus armor. His cybernetic eye stared balefully from behind the reinforced visor, a spark of red among a sea of black as he spoke.

"You killed my crew. You hurt my sales and pillage my base before you can be sold and dealt with. This was just business." His face twisted at the last word. Not a rant, just a tired old man talking to us from behind a barrier curtain with two guards.

"You have one chance. Go back to your cells and the one thing you value most doesn't get taken away." His voice took on an almost sad tone, head dipping down in resignation with the lack of response. "Very well, you brought this upon yourselves."

I ducked behind one of the heavy crates in the room, most of our group having already done so upon the barrier's formation. The barrier dropped, gunfire coming from our lines as I launched the overload mine I'd prepared. Their suits took the hit as they got to cover, one of the guards ducked out from cover with something in his hand.

 _Grenade launcher, get the fuck down._

I ducked further behind the crate, hoping it didn't lob off the ceiling to bounce behind me. An explosion on my left, shrapnel of the destroyed crates audible pinging off nearby surfaces. I turned around, still behind the crate as I checked to see who got hit, wiping the side of my helmet. Blue blood.

The turian kids were gone, a mess of ichor and plates on the floor behind the cage at the back of the room. I dropped to my knees, trying not to throw up in my helmet. The parents noticed and shrieked, running from cover to storm the slavers while the rest of us took the opportunity to fire, Syella's biotics slamming one of the guards into the wall before lifting the captain into the air, his form riddled with sparking gunfire from those of us still intact. The parents fell, reckless as their kinetic barriers failed and plates shattered from impacts.

Five more corpses and two piles of assorted meat added to the room, shots still trading with the other slaver. A heard a whoosh and dived, a small flare approaching me as I rolled away. My cover exploded, armored body tumbling as I felt shards ping off my armor, medical alarm listing several lacerations through the undersuit while the plates deflected most of the shards. I crumbled to the ground dazed, laying there for a few moments before I could stand, grateful for my helmet and armor.

I stood up, helped to my feet by Syella as those of us left looked around. A human, an asari, a batarian and a zom the last vestige of three times our number in a desperate call to action for our futures. Syella seemed exhausted, worn down from poor conditions and biotic usage. The batarian and I were beat up but alright in our armor, the zom seemingly lucky to avoid being hit so far.

I was momentarily startled as the zom spoke. "A request to know your names before death or freedom" Medium-pitched and in pulses of sound behind the translator. "we may fight harder knowing who stands next to us, and I want to thank the asari who provided us the opportunity."

"Syella, and thank the huma- Nikolai." A tilt of her head towards me. "His plan and his efforts that convinced me. I… I don't think I'd of done tha- it otherwise."

A pulsing hum from the zom before they spoke again. "In that case I thank you human. That you helped this endeavor raises my opinion of your species, tarnished as it was by seeing them as guards here after the batarians caught me. Call me Tingan."

"Let's get out of this shithole Tingan. I'd like to converse on better terms once we're off this rock." A pulsing growl-hum in reply.

 _No idea if that was affection or hatred, need to brush up on some extranet reading later on._

"Nylack." Spoke the forgotten batarian engineer. "Let's just get out of here."

Nylack walked up to the main airlock door, omni-tool flashing as he hacked aside the security sequences and the door opened with a VI voice blaring that the other side still had pressure. We moved in, Syella taking point as the four of us rushed out to find cover under the protection of one of her barrier-bubbles.

Not giving the enemy time to focus fire and pin us down in the entrance we charged in with a storm of automatic fire and biotics. Rounds rippled on the barrier as we got to an edge of the service section of the docking platform, providing the four of us cover against the gunfire headed our way. I slipped in before the barrier collapsed, a glance at Syella revealing her spread in exhaustion and panting, torso shifting even through the armor.

The corvette still sat there, our objective only a few dozen meters away across a maze of platforms and crates. We had to move fast, it was the only way off base and if they left they'd be able to starve us out, pick up some mercs or buyers or just vaporize the facility with the main guns.

Four of the slavers shot at us while an unknown number were inside the ship. The fire on our cover didn't let up as they alternated volleys and heat management, forcing the zom to stay down while us in armor could only pop up for a few seconds before defenses went down. We were running out of time, we needed to move before they got the corvette up, and we all knew it. I felt myself sinking, more and more dread with each second until Syella finally got up again, catching two of the pirates in a lift field before her barrier went down, a single shot searing through a damaged plate and into her arm. She waved it off as I started towards her, medi-gel packet from her belt already dispensed over it.

Nylack and I popped out of cover, tech darts breaking shields before my marksmen rifle punched through a faceplate. Brown blood poured out the hole and suspended itself in the field, the other form cut in two by Tingan momentarily coming up to add his own fire, confident the last slaver outside was cooling his weapon.

 _One more then we storm the ship, we can do this. So close Nikolai, stay in this!_

The last slaver popped out and in arrogance I stayed up, marksman rifle barking as his kinetic barrier flared and stopped my rounds from punching through his faceplate. I kept firing, hoping his would break faster than my own when the assault rifle erupted in a cloud of smoke and an explosion. The omni-rocket missed me, instead striking the floor nearby and sending a shockwave that spraying molten omni-gel in my direction. My shields took the worst of it, the glowing blobs brushed to the side before the shockwave and fireball sent me stumbling back in daze.

Everything went dark for a moment; my ears rang from the blast even through the helmet. Vaguely aware of warnings from my hardsuit computer I tried to roll, instead feeling myself rise up and settle onto something bumpy. Still dazed I was aware of motion, my body shaking side to side like a wagging tail while with the sensation of moving towards my feet. Ten seconds passed, the sounds of gunfire cutting off for a few afterwards as I hit the ground.

My broken nose resumed bleeding, and my helmet filled with the smell of iron. Clutching my head as I tried to get my helmet off, I froze upon a crackling sound and a wet thump. Nothing happened, I wasn't shot, wasn't sent flying from an explosion. I sat up and wiped away the blood that had covered my eyes. I recognized the inside of the corvette and dropped my helmet, laughter bursting out in pent-up relief that the situation was finally over. The justicar, the slavers, the mess of firefights that made me want to curl up at a bar alone. Less elated after that thought I stood up, taking the staircase to the command deck slowly as muscles and joints protested. I could tell we were airborne given the hum of the ship, and I wanted to see what the planned destination was. Bickering voices came to my ears as I approached the command deck, Syella's softer voice and the batarian tones of Nylack audible.

"This ship has no GARDIAN array, we can't sit here and wait any longer. We need to leave. There's an independent colony only a few light years away. We can deal with this corvette there. It's small and out of the way, no Alliance interference."

"Batarian, we just got hit by slavers and you want to push deeper into the traverse rather than heading back to the independent human colonies? Are you tides-damned crazy? We just got out of a slavers pit. Your issues with Alliance notwithstanding I'd rather be on a traverse world again."

"Syella, I have no hate for humans considering my own people can be just as bad. Don't forget who else was in the cells. We can split up from there and the population is other low-caste mostly. No slaving due to the region and they'll leave us alone if we show up with even a small warship."

They stopped to look at me when I entered the room. Both still wore armor splattered with blood and grime, the batarians four eyes weary with tiredness and Syella's purple-tinged as veins were visible near the surface from too much stress. I moved to sit down at a sensor console and ignored the way the contoured chair didn't fit my armor, glad to simply have a proper seat aside from the floor.

"How about you talk to Tingan and I before we actually pick a planet? Or maybe just get us into orbit in case anyone's still alive down here." I snapped, annoyed the two were already trying to decide.

Nylack nodded his head to the left, glancing at Syella and turning to me as he spoke. "The zom was wounded, went down to the crew quarters since there's a small medical facility. Bring them up and we'll _look_ for options in the meantime." The emphasized word coincided with a glance at Syella.

I mimicked the gesture and limped away out the door, glad to maybe be able to refill the suits medi-gel dispenser and get some conversation with the alien. My mood rose with interest to talk to a species I'd never met, and hopefully Tingan would reciprocate. My leg hurt with every stair, but I could still use it given the armors servos and labelled it is a medical suite issue.

I reached the crew quarters. Taking the time to announce my arrival with a knock, and not receiving a response I waved the haptic interface to open. The lights were on, a few sleep pods and a pair of cots on the end. A greenish-grey blob lay spread out on one of the pods.

"Tingan, we need to pick a destination." No response. "Tingan?"

I risked a poke and felt only room-temperature skin. Then I noticed the inky red seeped into the cot. A limp arm remained that way when I shook it and the six eyes remained closed. I opened an eye with my fingers, almost expecting to lose an arm if they were only asleep. Nothing, empty sockets were blank of the life that had been visible during our escape.

"Dammit!" I screamed, pissed off at the waste of it all. "Not like this, not like fucking this. You don't die after getting to the ship, no…"

Spinning around I punched the wall, pain flaring up as my fingers only avoided being snapped by the armored gloves. "Fuck! not like this! You're dead, you told them you'd be fine you stupid lizard!"

 _Another one dies for you, an alien and person you'll never get to know. Dead by your plan and rescuing your ass._

Another series of punches, I lost control as I failed to compartmentalize the drells recurring death rattle, the slumped over asari, the mess of plates and flesh and bones of the turians, even the slavers who hadn't been wearing helmets with bodies shattered and faces twisted. My vision unfocused and the only thing I was aware of was the purifying jolt of pain for every burst, every quick snap of my arms as my hand smashed into the same spot on the wall. Wordless cries on my lips as fitful glances at the body made me continue.

Arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling my arm back down and me back a few steps. Nylack moved through the doorway to investigate the body, Syella still held me back as I slowly stopped the useless struggling.

"He took a hit when he went out to grab you, said it wasn't dangerous." Nylack's gravelly voice, unsaid that the big lizard had gone and died probably to save me in some sense of the comradeship he'd tried to inspire.

Syella took the time to cut in before I could do anything. "We'll see to his body being treated properly at wherever we go. For now, let's just get to orbit."

We reached the bridge, I sat down in the same sensor station only to avoid getting the caked-on blood on any more seats than before, letting the two more knowledgeable in spacecraft operations do their stuff without interrupting, just staring blankly at the screen. We left the atmosphere without incident and proceeded to make burn for the edge of the system. Minutes passed, then half an hour and as I started to drift asleep I got a ping on the console.

Lurking in the planet's small rings revealed the heat-radiating form of a ship, wash of its drive lighting up the console as it burned on an intercept course. Five minutes away at current acceleration. We could have jumped to the next system, but our course had instead taken us to discharge at the gas giant and get it out of the way. Straight into a trap.

"We have a problem. Lidar is classifying what looks to be a destroyer escort or a sloop on an intercept course. They are in low-success evasion range and demanding we cease acceleration or be destroyed."

 _Not more slavers, if something else can actually continue to go right. No GARDIAN and a corvette against something that size was suicide at best, even I know enough about naval warfare to realize that. We won't win._

"I have a plan." To my surprise Nylack spoke up, Syella looked just as confused as I was. "I greet them when they board while you two hang back, slavers may respect a batarian in armor enough to let us be depending on the group, and bluffing may save our lives."

"Plan reeks like fish in a red tide." Syella's stance shifted, her weariness visible as her displeasure erased some signs of the tiredness.

I let my actions speak and headed to where the docking collar connected to the main corridor, rifle unslung as I stood. The ship shook slightly as it extended, Syella and I hearing and feeling the clang of when it contacted from our cover. The hissing of the small docking collar pressurizing heralded the arrival of our guests. My own eyes probably reflecting the worry in hers as we both stood, tense with weapons ready.

The airlock opened with a hiss, out of line as Syella and I waited for Nylack to negotiate. A heard the amplified shout of a single word as the proceedings started,

"Squint!"

Gunfire filled the air, and Nylack didn't have a time to exclaim before the sounds of kinetic barriers overloading coincided with armor and flesh being rent by high-quality guns. Syella and I tensed up, waiting for our otherwise silent aggressors to step into the open before the same modulated voice spoke again.

"Corsairs. Slaver scum only surrenders or dies!"

I made my choice and threw my rifle across the deck to be visible, Syella instead holstered SMG and kept her biotic barrier up as I tried to parley before we got grenaded.

"We're escaped slaves! We took their ship!"

Silence, several seconds passed while they considered my words, the seeming officer speaking once again. "Walk out slowly and unarmed."

I did so, Syella stayed behind cover with a very pissed-off expression as I raised my hands and moved to the center of the hallway. I stopped a few steps in when I'd noticed the squad of six humans all pointing guns at me. White and black medium armor sets with flared left shoulder pads each emblazoned with a sailing schooner. Flash grenades on the right arm and what looked suspiciously like nerve gas on the torso. A glanced at their guns, my HUD flagging two with M-22 Xiphos shotguns and four with a rifle it couldn't identify but that looked a lot like a modified Hahne-Kedar Lancer in my mind.

Another one spoke a few seconds later, furthest on the right and closest to the docking collar. "Sir. He doesn't match any of the slaver profiles and his armors covered in all sorts of blood. I think he's telling the truth."

Slowly raising my empty hand so as to not end up like Nylack, I pulled down the amour section from my neck. The action collapsing the plated mesh so that they could see the shock collar burns. I got a nod in return before he pointed at the corner and spoke.

"Tell your friend behind the support frame to come out, her biotics are on-sensor."

Syella stuck a hand out from behind the pillar first, and with it not being shot out also stepped out, arms not up but away from the guns on her hips as her biotic barrier sputtered out. She stood unsteady next to me and slightly behind on my right before facing the corsairs to speak, sentence laced with trepidation and fatigue.

"You killed a slave."

The corsair turned, looked at what was left of Nylack and shrugged. "Batarian on a slaving corvette. Made a guess. You two though, neither of your faces match what we had for intel for this group, and the lack of comms from the base checks out. We'll send a team down while we debrief you."

A gesture to follow and lacking any choice we did. Off the corvette, away from the body of someone I didn't know who nonetheless died for me. Boarding the corsair ship saw us shoved into a holding cell. The hours dragged on, before a stern-looking man came by and stopped in front of the door.

I saw our guns on a trolley behind him, and wasn't surprised when he said our story checked out, and that they would drop us off at Emerald's human colony.

* * *

 **CODEX: Zom**

The Zom are a client race of the Turian Hierarchy, discovered exploring their own solar system by turian scouts after the Unification Wars and before their contact with the citadel council. There is no species-specific government - the species in entirely integrated into the meritocracy and functions with minor economic support from the Volus.

The race is a non-asaroid reptilian, with females having brightly coloured plates as a secondary characteristic but no other distinguishing external features. Zom locomote on four legs as easily as two, and their two primary eyes gaze at objects of focus while the four secondaries watch surroundings for potential threats.

Rarely seen outside of pockets of turian space, zom have a lifespan slightly longer than that of turians, and their culture is reflective of their status in the hierarchy as a client race. Zom generally content to stay on the few levo-amino worlds in hierarchy space not colonized by other citadel races in return for a place in the hierarchies second-line and reserve military units, with no ill will towards the turians.


	3. Chapter 3 - Furatus

**CODEX** \- Emerald

Emerald is a mountain-ridden world with numerous smaller tectonic plates creating massive ranges in the northern hemisphere. Most comparative biomes are cooler then their Earth-based equivalents, and often see conditions from the interaction between the numerous mountain ranges and weather systems. Notably with less comparative rainfall and deep, widespread oceans. The northern hemisphere contains the planetary capital situated in a large mountain range, while the southern city of Guinessburg serves as the primary manufacturing and mining center.

Originally settled by unsanctioned Asari groups in 1923, the colony saw little interest due to the relatively cold conditions until the imperial collapse saw a one-time influx of Batarian immigration shortly followed by a small colonial Turian community fleeing the associated conflict of Gemina-F-6. In recent years the colony has seen a boom in population from Humans and Turians not affiliated with their governments, with the amount of human immigrants placing them as the most populous species on the planet.

The planet remains nominally independent, maintaining a planetary defense force and orbital assets for defense against terminus raiders. The local planetary militia curbs efforts from the Eclipse and Blue Suns to establish influence, and its value as a trade hub makes it safe from retribution and heavily invested in Traverse, Verge and Terminus economies.

Orbital Distance: 1.4 AU

Orbital Period: 2.3 Earth Years

Keplerian Ratio: 0.519

Radius: 5 883.6 Kilometers

Day Length: 27.6 hours (Earth Standard)

Atm. Pressure: 1.38 atm

Surface Temp: 12 °C

Surface Gravity: 0.88 g

* * *

Date: 02/05/2182 Gregorian Calendar, Emerald.

I stood at a bar, fallen on old habits and fleeing to a familiar venue of work on a new planet. Not quite comfortable after the events, I was working as a bartender instead of my usual security job, for what difference that made with full gear anyways. Syella worked as security in the VIP area upstairs, an armored reminder for patrons that the dancer's own biotics were only a single line of security in a club built like a fortress. My first time at the facility when I was looking for work was a mix of angled walls, deployable cover pieces and built-in barriers for the bartenders and dancers in terms of what I noticed. The handful of turrets built in I'd learned about after getting the job. A rustle of the door made me smell Guinessburg's metallic-tinged air and I briefly glanced at the armored turian bouncer who waved a customer in before drifting.

 _The corsairs had obviously confirmed our story when they raided the complex, though we'd seen a heavily restricted stay on the ship after they returned. Given that neither of us particularly cared where the trip ended the captain had seen fit to throw us out on his first supply stop to a colony. Arriving in the prefab-city mixed with local concrete forest that was the main spaceport city didn't have much fanfare as the pair of us were shoved off the ship with our gear and a small section of the salvage from said base as payment. We were showered, tended and fed with clinical efficiency more as a result of our own perpetual moods than anything the crew did. We had sat alone, ate alone, and slept alone in our cell when we weren't being escorted around the ship for errands. It had been two days of impatient waiting, of tempers being kept in check as we escaped the slaver's cells to end up in those of our rescuers. Maybe things would have been better if not for Syella being an alien, but I'd assumed if anything the corsairs would be okay with an asari over a batarian or turian. Nonetheless the conditions were frosty towards her at the start, and the conduct towards me degraded as I isolated myself from both the crew and her._

 _And they shot Nylack upon breaching, I mean I get the batarian on a slaving ship thing considering it's what we were trying to imitate. Flash bang would have worked a lot better for everyone._

 _So we'd ended up on Emerald, a rather lovely green-orb not that well known in the galaxy and with a decently sized local business clientele that kept most pirate or slaver groups away by the sheer count of warships, armed freighters or privateers in orbit, all present to protect the industrial complexes in the southern hemisphere and the ranches that sprawled across sections of the untamed northern half._

I snapped back to reality as a customer order pinged on my tool, pulling out the requisite honey-mead imported from an asari colony I couldn't pronounce and sent it over with the server who showed up momentarily, the woman nodding before glancing in the direction of a booth full of youths and handing me a tip. Likely a thanks for the well-received suggestion of a Trident seaweed-brew that had a now too familiar place in my memories. Glancing at the chrono I sighed, eyes flicking between the crowd and the FLCD screens to alleviate the boredom of the slow hours. The group of kids sat in a corner booth, young to be in a bar as per the drinking age being a relatively lax suggestion compared to elsewhere. I kept watch as two of them headed over to where an asari merc was drinking by herself, her interesting purple-red skin standing out from the dancers upstairs or the other pale-blue maiden at a table. I watched the kid try to flirt with someone who was probably ten times her age, the maiden having the patience to brush off the calm but inexperienced actions without mirth, a trace of good humour in her smile at the attempt before the kid finally got the hint and left. The sight did little to break me out of monotony, and I returned my gaze to the bioti-ball game on the venue's projector rather than resume my scan of the patrons.

* * *

The bar filled up as the clock ticked on, and I took more and more orders when a freighter crew seemingly on leave staked the place out in a blob of weary-eyed customers. The baker's dozen of human men kept me filling up pitchers of cheap local pilsner while the group of batarians in their corner booth indulged in a medium-grade planetary brew shipped in from up the more batarian-populated northern hemisphere. The tips from the two groups were poor and I was nearing the end of my shift when a few of each group started to converse at the bar. Loudly. I caught snippets of the conversation before things escalated, the already harsh tones coming into play before I heard a crash and turned around. The salarian barkeep on that side had taken cover behind the bar, his light flak jacket not suited to brawling with those in light armor or cargo gear.

One of the humans was thrown into the counter, spilling over the edge and next to the salarian. Shards of shattered glasses filled the air with tinkling sounds and he remained still, the larger sections of both groups now standing up and facing off. I activated my omni-tool and primed a neural shock mine to hit the group.

 _Time to deal with this._

Doing my job, I finally spoke. "Enough. Go back to your drinks and your corners, leave at separate times, security will be watching."

They stopped glaring at each other and looked at me, several in each group trying to turn back while others looked at the opposing group or me with annoyance.

One of the human crew broke the silence with a slurred exclamation. "Why you helping them human, fucking squints are slavers anyway!"

I watched one of the batarians at the edge of the gathering hurl a bottle, my arm taking aim with the omni-mine and firing as the purple-filled projectile left the grey-skinned alien's hand. The bottle exploded as collateral against the head of a sailor instead of the intended target, knocking her down as green shards and blood fell from the top of her head. Immediately afterwards my tech mine landed on the edge of the batarian group and sent three to the ground, paralyzed with pain and writhing as the rest of both groups surged towards each other and other patrons got up to get involved. I slammed the panic button under my counter as fast as I could when the blocks of bodies made contact. A pair of batarians jumped to tackle a small man and sent him tumbling in a heap, a redhead in an engineer's outfit threw her drink in a batarians face and started pummeling the alien when he clutched at his eyes in pain. A single flash of blue lit up the level as the light-blue asari joined in on the batarians side of the brawl, with more patrons started grouping up and lashing out as the situation devolved or simply fleeing for the doors or quiet corners.

A flying batarian landed on me as I was trying to draw my rifle, sending the weapon skidding across the bar area and under the counter where it slid out of reach. My arms moved, blocking a series of sloppy but powerful punches with my gauntlets while his armor in turn boosted his strength. Each of the four hits jarred my arms and sent them closer to my head, but I managed to hook him with my legs and slam him into the bar headfirst.

He redoubled and I flexed my hips and sent him into the wall again, then again, and again before his eyes finally closed and his thrashing arms stopped their attack on my back. As I rolled upright in the opposite direction, I could feel the beginnings of a series of bruises through my armor. I began to take stock of the brawl, noting the four bouncers were now involved and tazing patrons with modified pistols or shock batons.

A batarian in front of me fell, the taser rounds from a bouncer getting through and hitting skin. I watched a turian dragged into the match rake his claws across a batarian engineers' torso, getting caught in the flak jacket underneath and leaving them awkwardly entangled before both were hit by the same light-blue asari. She'd switched from biotic-enhanced blows and a barrier to actual kinetic actions, and I loaded a dampening tech-dart from behind the bar before popping up and launching. An explosion of green energy and the asari's barrier and corona collapsed with a snarl, turning to glare at me as a now only-average strength punch glanced off her current target. She slipped into the crowd of taller beings and I lost her for ten seconds. Biotics flickered back to life and I felt myself leave the ground, floating in a lift field as I tried to spin before getting caught by an enhanced punch. My left side exploded in pain even through the armor as I felt a rib crack, spun around in the air before slamming into the corner of the room, a second of pained floating before I dropped. Landing on my feet was impossible and I heard a crunch as a discarded chair had its legs crushed, painfully jabbing me before I ceased motion.

 _You hit her too soon, should have followed up with a neural-shock afterwards or gone in with fists after she was closer._

I looked up to find her again and correct my mistake, and annoyed when I couldn't find her launched the neural shock tech-mine I'd readied at a trio of brawling patrons, sending them to the ground. I saw one of the bouncers get mobbed by a pair of human freighter crew and go to the ground with a broken mandible, finally saw the same asari send someone flying into the FLCD screens on a wall before she caught sight of me. More biotics flared and I braced for another hit, but relaxed when the dancers and Syella arrived from the secondary staircase, having done their job and sealed off the calmer VIP area at our expense.

Stasis bubbles appeared amongst the dozen or so patrons still brawling, humans and batarians frozen in assorted poses and states of injury. Slowly released in groups from stasis and evicted from the establishment, I made sure the humans got out first, followed by the turians. Nobody posed a problem with the dancers and Syella present, the rest of the bouncers able to stand next to them with blatantly held pistols. I leaned where I'd fallen, omni-tool still glowing with a neural shock dart queued up for the asari. The medi-gel in my suit felt cold against my ribs, and each breath coincided with a lull and release of dull agony.

The manager arrived, a comparatively short krogan that still outweighed me four times, green and brown skin complexion with a few frilly spikes around his neck and chin. Two-hundred and seventy kilograms of reptile decided it would be heard, and all the staff knew it was a good idea to shut up, myself included. One of the human bouncers was still unconscious, pushed into a recovery position by one of the dancers, who turned her head away from checking him for other injuries with care to stare at our boss.

"Property damage seems minimal, so all of you squishy aliens better consider yourselves lucky that it won't come out of any paychecks." He spoke as he paced up and down, no actual anger but a hint of annoyance below the veneer. "Security, I expected better of your abilities to deal with troublemakers, you let the bartender notice the issue before you. This is unforgivable. No pay for today's shifts."

The annoyed groans and curses were quickly cut off as he turned to glare at them again before resuming the lecture. "Dancers, VIP bouncer; You did well in suppressing the brawl once present yet despite this you spent too long ensuring the complacency of the VIP area. They are the trusted guests, they will not start a fight. Leave a pair of biotics there for security and come down faster when the panic button is hit."

The group of asari in skin-tight uniforms nodded, Syella remaining motionless and glancing at me with an odd look from her position against the wall.

Traesh Nakmor spoke again, glancing between the salarian bartender standing with the rest of the staff, and me leaning against the wall. "Sen, use your omni-tool next time. Nikolai had the right idea until he didn't coordinate and tried to take a heavy-hitter solo. This got him sent across the room." His gaze focused on me. "However, you also acted like a bouncer, a fighter and not support staff. You should of called the crew at the start, not tried to diffuse a situation with no leverage. Syella, take your human to a clinic and go home."

An annoyed response from her. "He's not my human."

Nonetheless, she came towards me and offered an arm for support. I shrugged off the assistance and got up myself. Stopping to pick up my marksmen rifle made me wince when I'd bent over. A hand on my shoulder as I pulled myself back up and let her retrieve the gun for me. Accepting the rifle with a nod as the two of us left, nobody else sufficiently injured aside from the broken-mandibled turian who had already walked out clutching the facial appendage before the boss arrived, and the human bouncer now seemingly awake without much aside a nasty black eye for later. A few seconds on my omni-tool summoned an autonomous groundcar cab, and the pair of us entered the vehicle in silence.

Syella spoke up halfway to the clinic, inquisitive tone not quite as hidden as she was attempting. "You've been quite quiet for the past week Nikolai, generally not a pleasant tide with humans."

 _She makes the effort to sound like she cares at least. Pretty sure there's some sociological developmental issues with her condition going by codex, so I'll take that with a grain of salt. Or you could trust her, since even if she doesn't care the empathy has to take effort._

I let out a sigh and shifted, the motion causing another flare in my ribs as I mulled over an answer for a few seconds. I really didn't want to talk, didn't want to talk about anything. I just wanted to be left alone, get some sleep and go to work the next day, maybe grab a few hours of omni-tool games instead of the drinking I couldn't do. Syella turned away with a frown at the lack of an answer, leaving me in silence for the rest of the trip.

Exiting the vehicle, we stepped out in front of a small clinic run by an ex-military human doctor. Stark white walls on the outside with a pair of military security mechs I couldn't identify standing guard with grade-four Lancers. A VI tone welcomed us as we entered the waiting area, easily disinfected plastic seats placed along the walls and in benches through the center. An asari receptionist sat at the desk, a high-grade Locust SMG visible on her hips as she glanced up when we entered.

Syella spoke up before I could, nudging me on my non-injured side. "Human got thrown across the room by a bitchy maiden when he was doing his job. Shallow idiot hit her with a dampening dart but couldn't follow up, got thrown in her fit when it wore off."

The receptionist gave a grim smirk as she replied. "Merc job gone wrong? Probably not the best to advert-"

I cut her off before Syella could, noticing them both seem surprised at the move. "I'm a bartender at Traesh's place. Not a merc."

"Rifle like that and your omni-tool launcher says otherwise kid, head to the back and the salarian will take care of you."

I frowned at her and walked in. Syella keeping pace behind me as her boots clacked more often than mine due to her faster but shorter stride as we passed a series of rooms. Visible through several windows were examination or treatment rooms made of easily-cleaned tiles surrounding an observation table with disinfectant sprayers in the ceiling. Modular, sterile, easily able to separate different patients and infections.

 _Am I really that transparent? That readable? Or is it a mere side-effect of a longer lifespan, a more social psychology?_

The VI directed us into one of the observation rooms, the bed was standard-sized for more common species, not for a krogan or elcor patient. Volus and quarians could make do with the rooms ability to seal, though any atmosphere changes for the ammonia-breathers could be expensive.

A salarian medical tech with a green-blue complexion took my vitals with a scan of his omni-tool. A prick on my arm as a vial of blood was drawn for analysis and checkup (in case of a toxin-dipped gauntlet or lingering cell damage from a warp-field). I stripped my torso armor off, not caring who else was in the room, glancing up as the human doctor walked in wearing a standard Sirta Foundation medical scrub. Older, beard greying and hairline receding. He was still in decent shape but starting to show a few rounder spots from civilian life, the noticeability of older civilian gene-mods present on his form.

A cursory touch-exam of my ribcage as he checked for tender spots, presumably basing the response on the scans taken for the break. I winced a few times over certain areas but for the most part suffered for the old-fashioned check, just wanting to head home.

"Well, Nikolai it says here. Seems likely you came in for the ribs, so you should be happy to know there's no indication of vascular tissue or intra-abdominal injury. However, two of the middle ribs on your left side show signs of fracture, and while the medi-gel injection your armor administered did its job avoiding further strain it may take up to a week to properly heal with continued gel injection."

 _Expected, could have gone worse against a biotic._

"Stay away from any strenuous activity that may cause further aggravation, especially combat as it seemed to be the cause. Given the area I suggest you keep your armor on just for the support, and the medical suite you have will continue to do its job about injections. There's a few supplementary painkillers that I would normally suggest you take for the comfort, but the maxx you seem to be indulging in interferes with several and can have unpleasant results. Not the most uncommon in your line of work but I'll forward you a list of possible side-effects and stuff to avoid while taking it."

 _Shit._

The doctor stopped talking for a few seconds, concentration as he brought up his omni-tool and presumably sent off the message. I could check later, and so kept my gaze on him as he resumed speaking.

"Overall you should be good to go with some higher-grade medigel from our dispenser. Payment of three hundred credits to the secretary at the door for the consultation, plus any of the medigel purchases."

Business concluded he left so I could dress in peace, Syella waiting silently on the side while I reapplied my armor. I finally finished and proceeded to leave, noting that her walk was more rigid, less of the usual attention-lowering effort. I thought it may have been a good idea for her to get a checkup if something was bothering her, but at least I'd respect her privacy. We walked out, Syella paid the receptionist before I could. Upon leaving the building I started the twenty-minute walk towards our apartment, already feeling better with the medi-gel doing its job.

 _You need to sleep._

Syella caught up to me, her stride aggressive enough to match my longer steps while her arms were held out tense. She slowed as she flanked me on the left before grabbing my forearms. I winced as the still-tender skin underneath burned and stopped walking to turn around and glare at her.

"What the hell's your problem Syella!" I snapped, pulling my arm away from her grip by rotating it away. I met a pissed-off glare for a second as I cradled the pained appendage before letting it hang at my side, five strips of contact throbbing with tender gel-supported skin growths.

Her stance set, weight going onto her left hip and turning her head to meet my directly. I was confused at the amount of annoyance her body language conveyed. A mix of the human traits she'd picked up and the asari rigidity-set leaning stance didn't bode well, and I watched a few other pedestrians give us a bit more of a gap, especially the asari ones.

A string of asari colonial dialect I couldn't place. "Maxx, you're using tides-damned maxx! Do you have any idea how stupid it is for a non-asari to use that stuff, never mind your species having a decent chemical compatibility making it not immediately lethal?"

A sudden pause, her facial expression shifting to compassion, eyes staring into mine and switching gears as she continued. "Is it for memories" Her voice was gentle, a tone lower. My eye twitched, same voice as the morning after doing its work. "Is this how you've been dealing with it? Is this why you haven't had a drink, had someone to the apartment? Trying to understand the flow of events does no good, your mind stagnates human. The corruption spreads through the groundwater, and you lose what you have."

I let out a sigh, relaxing as I clutched my arm closer. "How is this an issue Syella, you haven't been handling it any better. That's a lot of honey mead for an asari your size, never mind the times I worked late while you had a guest over. Guess we should just be happy you haven't accidently turned anyone interesting into a vegetable yet, or did you get that out of your syste-"

A blue fist slammed into my jaw, and I felt my top incisor split before a chunk flew out, slicing into my lip as a few drops of red stained the front of my armor. I stumbled backwards, hands cradling my jaw as I felt my gums swell, blood from the slice slowly pooling amongst my teeth. Syella waved a skycar with her omni and got in, the more expensive option flying away and leaving me on a street corner. A pair of humans stared at me, a single asari looked to the skycar with a frown, and a salarian walked by utterly unconcerned.

"You okay human?"

 _Flanging Voice, probably turian._

I looked up at the speaker, a male turian with an easy foot of height more than me. Yellow bars and circles for colony markings on blue-grey skin with a normal-looking fringe. Two small protrusions on where a human's temples would be, the inch-long raised sections of plating added another distinguishing feature.

I wiped away some of the blood with an offered cloth, giving a nod in thanks as he took the cloth back. A flick of the mandibles and he walked away, the subtle whirring of an exoskeleton in the Predator heavy armor he was wearing. I shot a glare at the humans still watching me, they turned and I raised my omni-tool to hail a groundcar for myself. My fingers passed through empty air, the lack of haptics making me look down at my wrist and discover the missing band on my armor.

I turned back towards the clinic and began to jog, reaching the doors in a few minutes before slowing down to avoid slamming into the door. The same asari receptionist looked up with a raised eyebrow at my state.

I inquired before she could. "Did I leave my omni-tool in the examination room?"

A moment of surprise across her face, leaning forwards as she spoke. "The doctor did not state anything, I can check if you wish."

I nodded, and she got up and headed to the back. I felt my ribs begin to ache and took a seat on one of the benches. A minute passed before light footsteps heralded her return, arms empty as she gave a quick flick of her hands.

"Found nothing."

Annoyed, I walked away and was heading out the door when I stopped. Turning around I asked. "The salarian lab-tech from before, is he still here?"

She responded politely, apparently not making the connection or more likely just not caring. "No Human, Mannu left just after you did. Is there anything else?"

I shook my head silently and walked away. Salarian might of swiped my omni-tool, would probably try to sell to one of the mercenary outfitter stores. Lax security and a lack of care to where products came from for some of the smaller shops.

I walked and looked around for a starting point. A batarian-run cafe down the street had a sign that my translator read as an advertisement for public local intranet and extranet terminals. A quick place to get a map for my helmet HUD and hardsuit computer, maybe do a local search of the clinic's site for an employee list. Nonetheless I still had armor-cam footage of him anyways, which let me do a VI-comparison if I was willing to give up the credits.

As I approached the door to the establishment I caught the eye of the batarian bouncer. He shifted and pointed his shotgun down, but still in my direction as he sized me up. A slight tilt of my head to the left as I looked at his topmost eyes seemed to relax him, a human showing a bit of cultural respect no matter how sincere enough to get into the cafe.

The smell of roasting meats and acidic sauces filled my nose, smoked imported and vat-grown fish hung in sight behind the counter while a pale-blue asari server took orders from the batarian workers and occasional mercs that dotted the place, a single group of patrons having a pair of heavy-set human men at their table. Several quads of eyes snapped to me, and a slight tip of my head as I chose a booth with a terminal made them disperse with only the occasional grunt as I settled into the booth. The server handed me a menu and a few local plant-fiber napkins with a gesture to her lip. I wiped my own with one and it came away red, the gum swelling had gone down slightly but a small trickle of blood from the now-shattered incisor was still present. A closed-mouth smile at the waitress got me one in return, and she left me with the menu.

The selection was a standard mix of colonial batarian fare, mostly imported or vat-grown analogs of animals from Khar'shan or other colonies. The unique red-fleshed fish analogs were featured in high level, the often-smoked cuts matching the ones I'd seen hanging. I selected a stew that I'd had in a different establishment and paid to the table slot with a credit chit I kept in my armor. The stew was a heavy, spicy blend that I hoped would serve as a distraction from my dispute with Syella while I focused on recovering my omni. No way I was asking for help after what had just went down. No point getting yelled at and creeped out again, never mind that we split the rent.

The stew arrived, and I thanked the server as she dropped it off at the table. Snapped out of my reading I took a moment to notice and give her a small tip. Six head-tents as most common, small red markings in clusters around her eyes with a set of darker, purple triangles taking form above her forehead in an almond pattern. I'd thought that was actually rather clever, pseudo-eyes for an asari who deals with a lot of batarians, might help a bit subconsciously. I did notice the lack of a weapon on her person though, either she had it hidden or was confident enough in her biotics or coworkers.

 _Assuming I'm reading her correctly anyways. Alien._

I made a few queries from the pop-out terminal. My VI-managed information requests yielded little on Mannu, even the higher-quality search I paid a few credits to allocate for only pulled up the safe comparison I'd done myself. Nothing so far, credits to rule out ideas. I lamented on the stew I'd absentmindedly consumed half of already. The heat and acid burned at the broken gum, a sense of pain that I welcomed in regards for the clarity it provided. The meats were salty, smokey and fell apart from the cooking - though it had sat too long; the flavors mended together a bit too well. Decent but not my focus, yet I couldn't find anything else on the salarian. I decided it was time to check the merc shops, see if they'd picked up a modified Polaris-IV lately.

As I finished the stew I caught a glance at a short figure in the kitchen, my curiosity getting the better as I stared for a second before realizing that a cafe full of batarians was a bad place to do so. So, I left instead, thoughts of the batarian female I'd seen a momentary distraction. One didn't usually see them often as apparently the Hegemony did what it could to limit their travel outside its colonies, so the outcasts, pirates and various rejects one saw outside their systems rarely had a notable population of them. Her upper eyes were smaller, closer to the center of her head while the larger lower eyes pushed out almost like a salarian. The cartilage band was covered up and blended in except for the outside of her nose and the top of her bald head, while a slightly longer neck then her male counterparts flowed into a less pronounced chin. Teal-green skin with a paler stripe up the center of her face presumably lead down past her neck.

 _Interesting, note on Hegemony cultural sexism, not relevant. Get moving._

I gently tilted my head to the left for the batarian at the door and gave a small wave to the server on my way out, hands removing my helmet from the shoulder mount so I could use the HUD for a map. A map of the area appeared with pins on the merc retailers, all of thirteen in the locale. Seven were mid-sized while six were large venues with what I assumed would be more security and fabrication rights instead of resale, less likely to have stolen goods. Sensible would be me hitting the medium-sized venues first, but It would still take several hours to go through all the stores. I'd considered hailing a groundcar but decided on the cheaper bike option.

The first stop had been a few kilometers away, all of five minutes on the motorbike. It was sequestered in the same general area, a mix of human prefabs with a few batarian-influenced structures for Guinessburg' s small population of them. Two bulky, well-fed batarian guards stood at the door, a foot over my height and dwarfing the usual low-caste workers that most humans could out mass. A product of the weird metabolism for their species. A tip of my head to the left slightly got me in. The armor and guns I was wearing probably also helped, never mind the smell of batarian cuisine I was sure their sensitive noses could still detect.

The store was dimly lit, with brighter spotlights on racks of weapons for sale. A mix of homebrew equipment, imported Batarian State Arms guns and armor, modified alliance gear and assorted terminus models filled the shelves, a pathetically small omni-tool section next to a few batarian close-quarters weapons. Mostly shoddy batarian models and some Elkoss Combine designs, none matching my omni-tool. I strolled up to the counter were a more normal-sized batarian stood over a few assault rifles, flicking a datapad as he fiddled around with an ammo-block.

"Pick up any Polaris-IV tools lately? My old one got hit in my last fight and I was looking for a replacement."

Four yellowed eyes snapped up to look at me, and I met the top pair as he spoke. "No human, what you see is what we have when it comes to those. Sure you don't want to upgrade that little peashooter for a Kishock or Halbast? Both pack a bit more of a punch."

I shook my head in response when his eyes hardened for a second. A dismissive grunt served as a good reason to exit the store without buying anything, and the same tilt got me past the guards without issue. I once again hopped the bike and consulted my planned route. Two human-run stores were next, with a higher-end store afterwards and a more general multi-species store after that in turn before the circuit ended with a primarily turian store. I'd thought all worth a check.

The next human store I'd barely spared a glance at. Mostly low-level volus knockoff gear mixed with some SA surplus and a lot of barely-legal explosives. No back room for tech and no tech in the store, arguably a waste of time but it still narrowed down the list. I checked my map, the next one took me into one of the worst districts and I'd polarized my visor in preparation.

The building quality dropped suddenly across a street, the prefabs older, more worn and less intact. Further on was a small block of hastily thrown concrete or local wood shacks and even a few tents. Guns were more apparent and the streets emptier, the mix of humans, batarians and turians down on luck small compared to most colonies or urban ventures but still present. A run-down apartment block at the end of the street had well-armed Eclipse team outside. That was notable, given the local security forces didn't like the merc groups setting up large shops or centers here. The store came into view and I examined the fortified building.

It resembled a fortress to some extent. Reinforced balconies with gun and anti-vehicle emplacements on the second and fourth floors, while deployable cover panels at the entrance court gave the guards an option to hold out if needed. The entrance was armored, two sets of blast door opening into the main area as I walked in past the human guards, heavy Onyx suits and Mattock rifles an odd and very human combination. The first floor was empty of guns, instead having Hahne-Kedar and Aldrin Labs suits standing in rows or pieced out for customization. What caught my eye was a single pre-contact exo-suit on display in the corner, still hefting the unloaded minigun in its arms from behind a barrier display curtain. They were well-funded for their location, and not as flamboyant on their site page as in the store. Nonetheless the all-human customers and employees paid my gawking at the suit little mind before I'd snapped out of it and took the stairs to the next level.

At the tech counter stood a receiving desk for used gear, so I shuffled into the spot deciding a direct approach was best. Lacking an omni-tool to pull up an image on I instead had to rely on talking.

"Get a Polaris-IV from a blue-green salarian at all lately?"

The bald, middle-aged Russian at the counter shook his head before answering. "We don't take secondhand tech from greys. Too much risk of something being in them. He steal it or something?"

I nodded, and he gave a snort before speaking again. "Alrighty, there's a salarian section of _Guria's Ware's_ that may have it, the commando shop closer to the spaceport. They'd have taken it if it was modded to a decent quality, blue's like stuff like that for sentinel usage."

I got up and walked away without anything else. The vibe I got from the store was not one of a friendly attitudes to other species, so I doubted they'd lie to cover a salarian thief. The other two stores were on my list included the commando shop, and my conversation had not given any other options. I exited the store, nodding at the guards who'd done their job and not let my ride be touched before I mounted the bike and set off towards the spaceport.

I drove on, setting my helmet filters to close when the smell of unwashed bodies and refuse mixed with ozone and char from the port. Shuttle and aircar traffic picked up overhead and I began to share the road with larger vehicles, civilian trucks and the occasional M-29 Grizzly or M-080 Bull converted for civilian usage. A single M-26 Whitetip AFV with the colours of the colony security group came into sight, large mass accelerator cannon locked forward as the very-clearly not civilian vehicle received a nice buffer zone I made use of to pass a truck. I veered down a side street filled with casinos and hotels for spacers that led to the prefab serving as a commando outlet, noticing the two asari in commando leathers standing outside the door with asari-made pistols of some design on their hips. I dismounted as both stopped to glare at me.

The smaller one met my eyes first, violet skin tone that seemed less common on the citadel and more common out here in the traverse pairing with dark blue stripes along her crest. Three inches shorter than I was in armor, the black set of commando leathers was more armored than her companion, additional impact plates and kinetic barrier projectors dotted on the surface of her torso and limbs with a bandoleer of flash grenades slung over a shoulder. Her counterpart was taller, a deep blue with green and white facial markings that likely trailed among her limbs given her unadorned hands also sported some. Her taller posture lent her rod-straight stance an edge, topping me by a few inches and making her short head-tents almost comical.

The taller one strode up to meet me, subtle biotic barrier flickering as we both stopped a few feet away from each other. She spoke first, a low voice with a smug superiority I assumed was earned in combat. "You a biotic?"

I met the piercing gaze, a set of silver irises staring down the young, non-biotic thing walking up to a store that catered more to the elite, or the arrogant. Both more than a match for me without - and probably with - my omni-tool, decades of experience and training simply bolstered their ability to smear me across the floor. I was not inclined to fight commandos, or even just mercs with biotics styling themselves as such.

 _Honesty seems prudent._

"Have you picked up any second-hand Polaris omni-tools today." I spoke, attempting to hide any nerves the commandos were causing.

I had no idea if it was working or not, and I barely held myself back as the guard laughed. A harsh bark that made her shorter companion roll her eyes and take a moment to analyze me. I settled my stance, trying to convey annoyance with the situation but be respectful.

"No human, we don't take any secondhand gear stock. We haven't got a modified omni-tool in a long time since most of us tend to rely on biotics, but an Armali or Serrice tool does a commando a better job than most of the junk you'll end up with here. You seem to be okay, perhaps if you can spare a few thousand credits we'll let you make a purchase."

I let a bit of a smile slip at her comment before I replied. "Thanks, but no thanks, I'd rather get a set of newer armor instead. Or avoid a selling my organs."

Her smile disappeared as she waved me away. I re-mounted the bike once again and set off for the longer ride towards _Guria's Wares_ , hoping for better luck. Or just indulging my annoyance for letting someone steal something from me, especially a damn medical tech. A tingle at the back of my throat indicated a craving for a hit of the maxx I'd been using, and the recognition of that thought brought a stream with it as I drove idly.

 _Didn't even let me in, doubt they'd bother to lie anyways. I can always come back after checking everything else. Besides, no way you're pissing off either of them. Still though, one button to get rid of that itch before other symptoms occur. No, maybe I don't need it._

 _But you do. Blue marks on the wall as a tiny mandible slides down. An asari shuddering on the floor, blood where blood should not be. Her terrified eyes flick around the room, terrified of anyone who steps close. Everything left of Nylack, dead by your own cowardice to meet opposition. The Jackson Pollock painting your armor now resembles._

I thumbed the release and it ended. Still focusing on the road and thankful I'd not hit anything. I arrived at the last store, skidding to a stop on the bike and leaning it against the side of the building. No actual guards but a pair of LOKI mechs with taser-modified stinger pistols stood in the lot, baleful optics tracking me and ceasing when I moved through the door. I took a look around, upgrade kits in shelves that did everything from increase grain velocity to expensive eezo-interlink nodes to boost biotics in heavier armors. All of it looked scavenged, modified in some method with worn edges, hastily painted scratches and filed-off logos.

I checked the rack of omni-tools, taking my time to admire a high-grade Logic Arrest model and a few exotic tech-mine and tech-dart payloads. I hadn't seen any cryogenic models available on the Citadel or any prior colonies I'd stopped at. Might be a worthwhile purchase in any case, or just a license so my tool's omni-gel forge could make them. A glance at the price made me decide a trial purchase may be in order before a license, not particularly keen at giving up most of my savings for a new type of marginally useful ability. Neural shock tended to do the job.

A quick search of the dozens of omni-tools failed to reveal mine. I turned towards the counter and saw a near-identical salarian to the medical worker, stopping myself from starting an offensive right on the spot before the subtle differences became apparent. Same eyes, same facial structure and colour patterns but slightly different cranial horns, along with a scar on his neck and slightly more musculature.

 _Looks like a clan-brother. I may be on the right track._

Having grabbed a slightly better interior rail for my marksmen rifle as an excuse and possible purchase, I headed to the counter. The Salarian moved to make the purchase as I pulled out the chit, looking up when I held it back, crossing my arms as I spoke.

"Got any Polaris-IV tools? Friend of mine said you guys picked one up today."

The salarian blinked and looked at me more intently. "No human we do not have any Polaris-IV tools ready for sale. The one we recovered was damaged and not ready to be resold at this time."

Uncrossing my arms and looking around, no guards inside but the mechs were a deadly problem without any overloads. I leaned in slightly to press my point. "You sure about that, Teset?"

His eyes focused on something, eyelids coming up in a blink as his stance shifted to hostility, in-bent chest rippling as his hands rested on the SMG at his back. "What are you playing at human, questioning my business practice gets you nothing."

 _You can question, his pistol won't get through your shields before you draw yours, and he doesn't have an activated barrier or any armor. Probably not biotic as well._

I continued the interrogation attempt. "Our mutual acquaintance lifted my tool at the clinic today. I know it went here, and I want it back, I'll even pay a bit for these rail components-" I slammed the package down on the desk. "-but stop bullshitting me, give the omni back."

His posture didn't change. "You can have the tool human, but you better pay or the data on it goes to the local brokers. Some interesting combat footage on there, rare and interesting to fight a justicar and walk away, then some action on a slaver's facility with corsairs? You'll need to pay me a lot to get rid of that type of data."

I reeled back at the mention of the justicar, kicking myself mentally for forgetting about the recorded combat data. Such an idiot, taking the maxx had kept me focused but it also kept me complacent. For now I had to deal with the salarian, and I reached towards the little-used pistol on my hip before the salarian drew his SMG too quickly for me to match the moment I twitched.

 _Forgot about salarian reflexes there did you? Nice job justifying the focusing drug, memories or effectiveness Nikolai? Figure it out before one gets you killed._

My hand moved away from the pistol as I had another thought, leaning casually back with the Elkoss M-4 rip-off pointed at my chest. I swallowed the bile in my throat and rationalized that my shields would probably take the first burst to keep me intact. Probably not a good sign I was barely reacting to having a gun pointed at me, yet another reason to ditch the mind-calming drugs.

I pushed through the nerves and spoke. "May I use your com-terminal, work something out?"

He gave what my translator package suggested was a smile and nod before speaking. "Certainly human, I look forward to whatever price you end up agreeing to."

 _You're going to lose a paycheck for doing this, never mind whatever other actions you end up having to do to earn favor back. Smooth job, you should be ashamed thinking of this._

The salarian probably noticed my hesitation but assumed it was in his favor, he said nothing. I pressed the button and a krogan voice rolled out, grimace on my features as I hoped it didn't end poorly.

The com filled with the rumbling growl of Traesh Nakmor's displeased inquiry.

"Nikolai, I thought I sent to home, yet your credentials end up calling from a business comm. Care to explain yourself?"

"Look boss, sorry, we went to the clinic you have an arrangement with. One of the techs swiped my omni-tool and panned it off to his brother here at RTSH. They're being an asshole and threatening to upload my data in return for the tool or keep it themselves. Is this the message you want to send your employees about what happens when they get roughed up?"

A loud grunt before anything translatable came out. "Nikolai, you're one of my better bartenders so far, but I only hired you recently. I didn't really think you have much of a quad but I'll hear you out. Who took the tool?"

"A salarian named Gorot-II Uyrionn Sal Minest Got Teset Mannu, grabbed the omni when I had my gear off to get my ribs checked, I noticed when I left and went back but he either went out the back or had help from the receptionist."

The form on the projector was silent, I worried as I couldn't predict what the old reptilian manager would do. Luckily his next question wasn't directed at me, but at the salarian he'd rightfully assumed was within audio range.

 _Old bastard had figured out your plan. I might have made a mistake._

"So salarian, you have a deal with your brother to get wares for the outfitters shop. I wonder what would happen if I told his human boss what you were doing to my employees, a backroom impromptu organ donation perhaps? A tasty liver treat for one of my business partner's who would indulge in such a thing?" His voice grumbled on, oblivious to the way the salarian's expression fell. "Or you can give the tool and its data back to my employee and tell your brother fleecing my employees goes against the business deal his boss had. If my human-" I flinched at the phrasing. "-finds out you leaked anything then maybe one of my friends can visit you for a meal? Colony security has always been on good terms with my bar, I'm sure they'd ignore a little tadpole disappearing from the pond."

I glared at the salarian and smirked to disguise the apprehension at the mention of salarian liver while the krogan spoke. Mannu stayed silent for several seconds of rapid-fire pondering when Traesh finished, and I slowly tried to shift a hand to my pistol without notice.

Once the deliberation had passed he leaned into the scan range and spoke. "Alright krogan we have a deal. I'll give the human his tool back and won't copy the data over, a good deal yes? Especially if I speak to my brother about arrangements."

The large krogan grunted unamused. "You better."

I watched the salarian scurry away to the back before returning with my tool. He handed it over and showed me the logs to indicate it hadn't been copied, but I'd figured I'd have to trust the intimidation rather than falsifiable records.

I took the tool back and did a system check, noticing some access attempts and altered low-security settings. I engaged a factory reset without delay. I'd restore from my hardsuit backup once out of the store. Turning around to head out, I thought better and put the rail mod components on the counter and pulled out the credit chit. The salarian stared for a second before deactivating the UMS on the upgrade kit and handing it to me as he swiped the chit. A quick check of the balance and I headed out of the store, not bothering to look back at the salarian but still making sure to watch the security mechs as I mounted the bike and began the ride back to the shared apartment.

Halfway through I decided to switch the destination to work, deciding any unpleasantness with my boss should be settled before I showed up the next day. I stowed my helmet on its shoulder mount and simply enjoyed the air breezing past me and the electrical whine of the engine. I'd taken a moment to enjoy the simple pleasures and pay attention, more peripheral details coming back into play as I noticed more details on the buildings. I smirked when I passed a back entrance to a club with younger humans and turians hanging out, an asari probably five times their age pestering the obviously more adult turian bouncer to let them in. A pair of elcor made me turn my head in curiosity as I sped by, catching a whiff of something unplaceable for a moment before it passed.

I arrived back at Traesh's bar, a crowd already forming outside the bar that hindered my entrance. The evening patrons were starting to file in and get caught in line as the building filled and bouncers drip-fed to keep things calm after the dispute earlier, crew working to keep things calm after the issue earlier.

I paid the bike with my chit before letting its VI drive it away, then shuffled around the building to approach the side entrance rather than go through the front. A flash of the employee-ID from my omni-tool and the smaller door unlocked. I stepped inside and immediately felt the vibration of the base and motion of the evening crowd, dull thumps lingering unpleasantly in my wounded ribs on every beat. I brushed past the other bouncers who gave me confused looks as I made my way to Traesh's office, stopping at the door and offering a few knocks with trepidation.

The door opened and I found myself facing said two-hundred seventy kilograms of reptile, the zero-point-eight-six g's not doing much to reduce the weight said mass had or its intimidation factor. I stood at the threshold, trying not to fidget as both of his eyes focused on mine in turn before he backed into the room and gestured for me to follow.

Before he could speak I cut to the point. "How much does this cost me?"

He didn't blink, instead simply settling back and pouring himself some ryncol, the smell immediately making the pungent drink obvious as it filled the room. I shook my head when offered some and he let out a rumbling sound that may have been a sigh, turning to the side so only a single eye was looking at me.

"What makes you think you owe me anything human?" Another sip of the ryncol.

"Boss, I called you for what was essentially a favor, you saved me a lot of trouble getting the tool back." I replied.

He turned back so both eyes could focus on me. "Nikolai, you did well earlier. I sent you to the clinic and they violated my trust. You work for me and I protect my employees, doing otherwise is merely bad for business." A deep chuckle from his large body." Besides I was surprised you came to me, instead of Syella."

I heard footsteps behind me, turning around to find Syella's staring at me from the doorway. I tensed up unconsciously in anticipation before remembering the other occupant of the room and relaxing, a rare flush on my cheeks as I stared at my companion with uncertain terms.

"I called her after you called me, she didn't know you'd had your omni swiped and was worried you'd gone to do something stupid. In a way you did, shaking down issues with the outfitters. You called me to deal with and got the tool back, and I wonder exactly what made you spend so much time on it, what value it had." He turned to look at Syella before continuing. "So I talked to you asari, I'd never asked for history other then employment when both of you signed up and I didn't find anything. Instead you explain that the two of you fought your way to escape a slavers camp only for four get away, and two to die once you'd escaped. A rare occurrence and only possible because they didn't implant you on the spot. She said your tool probably had footage you considered sentimental, or grievance."

His eyes narrowed to focus on me, Syella shifting nervously and rubbing her crest as he gave her a brief glance.

"Perhaps it's something else, something more embarrassing or dangerous. Or perhaps not, instead I have two employees who came here together and have done well, having a dispute major enough to affect something this personal after they get wounded. You both do your jobs and I will protect you as employees, no. You owe me nothing except to do your jobs. Go home and rest, sort out whatever spat you had, for even a krogan or asari can find life too short for spite.

We walked out together, surprise kept us silent as we went down the stairs and left through the side exit. I could smell ash on the air, the only distinct scent in the miasma of assorted smoke coming from the crowds at the front, mixed with ammonia from a puddle of urine in the alley. We began to walk to the apartment in silence, Syella apparently content to leave me with my thoughts or too disappointed to speak.

"You were right." I surprised myself as I spoke, electing her to stop walking for a mere moment before she resumed at a faster pace to catch up. "I'll stop with the maxx, it won't work for a long-term solution and well, it's probably not the best idea as you said."

An audible breath before she turned her head, streetlights shining on her crest in the dark as we walked, shadows under her eyes hiding some of her markings. "Nikolai, sorry I broke your tooth."

I laughed it off, wincing as my tongue now swirled around the sharp edge that couldn't be left alone. Instead we suffered the rest of the walk in silence, a more content emptiness. The apartment arrived faster than I expected, and I took all too much pleasure in stripping off my armor to lounge on the couch. The scent of fried fish filled the air and indicated what her meal had been in my absence, and the small, gear-packed common area devoted too much of its space to our armor and weapon sets, the kitchen area and couch filling the rest. I heard the facet on the sink activate and looked up, vial of maxx now empty and poured down the drain. The action left only what was in my armor and made me a hundred credits poorer, I ignored the action and let it slide after my statement. I leaned back and drifted off tired from the day on the couch, briefly aware of a hand on my shoulder before it left just as quickly while I ebbed to sleep.

* * *

 **CODEX -** _Naval History Edition_ : CF-3 Modular Bulk Cruiser

One of the most important vessel designs in human history, the CF-series has roots going back to the initial batch of mass effect tech built from the designs in the Mars Archives. The design is one of the foremost reasons for human space expansion in their time frame, an efficient and cheaply produced craft built by the thousands in all its iterations.

The ship design has been used for numerous purposes, modular sections carrying stacked cryo pods responsible for the boom of colonial development after the Charon-Arcturus Relay was activated, with numerous surveyed worlds receiving several waves of colonists to set up multiple settlements using the materials carried by the ships.

Early military cruiser designs were based on the same hull, though they were considered easy pickings by the turians compared to purpose-built military cruisers during the Relay 314 Incident. The Systems Alliance donated several of the vessels for logistics support to the Citadel Defense fleet after receiving an embassy, a move that garnered mixed responses.

Most current uses of the vessel are less glamorous but just as important. Hundreds serve as Edfel-Ashland refineries and HE3 processing ships in an assortment of systems throughout Alliance, Council, or other space.


	4. Chapter 4 - Lectio

**A/N: Nothing much to say, thanks to anyone who responded privately or publicly with feedback.**

* * *

Colonial Security Server Storage: Evidence set NTC-CR-A-#047. Acquired by Tap-Snoop-6  
ExMail Correspondence: 25/03/2182 to 07/04/2182. Recorded for law enforcement purposes by colonial authorities. **  
** _Intercepted Communique: Trinity Falls, Horizon. 25/03/2182, Gregorian Calendar._ **  
**

Henson, I decided to get our boys on horizon a vehicle for the dockyard base, should help with cargo and serve as a deterrent against all the other scum who sets up shop here, especially that asshat Vido's boys in blue. I've attached an entry for what I purchased, it should deliver soon.

\- A. Harrin

 _Intercepted Communique: Trinity Falls, Horizon. 01/04/2182, Gregorian Calendar._

Al, dunno know why you got us one of 'ose pieces o crap instead of a right proper Grizzly or 'ven an ol Dogfish model. Blasted tings have a nice dual dickpit for visibility but it also makes um helluva vulnerable to 'ny asshat with an omni-rocket attachment.

Sure, the ting handles well 'n all, it has barriers 'n armor but it's a damned logi. I'll hook up tat HMG you're always sayin we should get sum use outta above the troop bay. Sum sod can get sum use outta it and hook uppa remote control or cannibalized droney for support fire.

Still Al, ting isn't going to go 'gainst a proper AFV. I swear if I have ta clean some poor 'bastards gut out of the wrecked dickpit I'm gonna charge ye fooking overtime.

 _Intercepted Communique: Trinity Falls, Horizon. 07/04/2182, Gregorian Calendar._

Al, I bloody tol you about the damn Bull-shit. I get back and half yer boys r dead with everyone who went on da little 'expedition among dem. The bloody ting was upended and crunched into da side of a cargo ship cause it ain't got no darn vertically aligned core. Y'all fookin owe me.

* * *

Date: 13/5/2182 Gregorian Calendar, Emerald.

I awoke sweat-soaked, panicked and staring at a wall. I couldn't immediately place it and lashed out, my arm sent something crashing to the floor with a sharp sting. I bolted upright and stared at my surroundings, my omni-tool already flaring with a flashlight that I swept across the room. The beam stopped when it came across the groggy asari now waking with tinges of a biotic corona forming on her figure. Syella on her cot across the room, tired but alert and awoken by the shattering of the glass. Said shards glittered on the floor as I slid off the edge of my cot and took care to avoid slicing my bare feet upon the mess.

"Another withdrawal pang?" My roommate asked, her tone laced with mix of annoyance and sympathy that I couldn't tell the sincerity of.

I nodded an affirmative, then dimmed the light from my tool to a gentler level. Debating the thought for a moment I got up completely and stood, the warm night air of the city noticeable even in the apartment. I gathered the shards of glass with care before sticking them in an omni-sludge canister to deal with later, then brushed the area with a static-charge tool to collect any small pieces remaining. Task complete I slipped out of the room, my bare feet quietly pattering among the metal flooring as I meandered to the kitchen. A glass of water first, before the blossom wine in the back caught my eye. Alcohol was tempting, something I was careful not to mix with the maxx for possible side effects but was now an option once again. Instead I slammed the small fridge shut faster than recommended, and several sauce bottles rattled against each other in the door at the motion. I put the empty glass next to the sink and walked back to the bedroom, settling back on my cot as I curled up again.

 _You don't work till night-shift later. Sleep some more, not like I'm going to share the contents of that mess of a dream anyways._

I lay there for a few minutes, entertaining happier thoughts as a diversion from the flickers of uncomfortable memories of the last few weeks. I repositioned as my thoughts drifted to the inside of the slavers cage, no longer free from wandering with the maxx out of my system. Blissfully I drifted off quickly, with no recollection of dreams when I woke up again.

* * *

I walked down the street on the way to work, nimbly sidestepping a salarian that breezed by on some errand. I'd slept for most of the time, Syella having briefly woken my up earlier to go to her earlier shift before I'd tucked back in for my nighttime one and spent the day in bed. My nose twitched and I briefly considered activating the filter on my helmet to avoid the metallic smell but thought better of the wasteful action and let it slide. I checked my omni-tool briefly after the near-collision, still paranoid after last week's incident and attempting to avoid a similar issue. Tool still there, I let it slide and noted Traesh's bar had come into view. My pace increased slightly out of the same paranoia.

A wave of my omni-tool's ident logo out of habit as the two bouncers let me in, before I snaked through the crowd to head to the employee's area prior to work. I could analyze and socialize later, not the few minutes before shift especially when I was still groggy. I walked by one of the dancers in the break room with a nod and slight smile, noting the siari gesture of greeting I received in turn. It was still ten minutes early for my shift, so I grabbed a bag of space cow milk from the employee fridge and downed it, receiving a perplexed glance from the dancer at the cultural quirk humans and batarians shared. I waved it off, slowly relaxing back against one of the human-styled chairs as much as my armor and rifle would allow for the last nine minutes I had until my shift started.

The dancer spoke after a few minutes, causing me to open my eyes and turn my head out of polite interest. "Zeneska."

I raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"R'vaein's off-shift, she's already left and said to tell you."

I didn't know her name, and rather than embarrass myself by asking I merely blurted a quick thanks her way as I got up and stretched. My arms no longer hurt as much in my armor's gauntlets, having scarred into an ugly numb barrel of skin despite the medi-gel. Overall, I felt that the aches from my injuries had flared down somewhat, my ribs not protesting at the motion. The thought made my tongue run over the shattered tooth I had yet to get fixed, and I dismissed the flicker of annoyance it caused.

I walked out of the employee's area and greeted the Salarian bartender - Sen - I was replacing, the counter folded up to allow me access to the central area before he slipped through behind me. I took quick stock of the inventory, sending a request for more tequila and another jar of gruoeka hide extract for turian patrons. Inventory complete and settled into my waiting stance, I eyed the clientele finally. Things had calmed down after last week, and the groups of batarian and humans who'd started the fight had been given a GTFO card by the bouncers when showing up again.

For a night shift it was oddly quiet, filling a steady supply of modified turian brandy sours for an asari huntress in the corner, on leave from a ship in orbit given her Republics Gatherers of Logistics - closest translation apparently - uniform. Throughout the night I continued to tend a large group of salarian clan-brothers who had walked in to celebrate a breeding contract for their dalatrass with a series of hits of ale of Manstja: fermented sap and mash of cattail-analogs from Sur'kesh traditionally grown in their ancient spawning pools and carried for familial celebrations.

 _Bit odd in my opinion, but the modern stuff we carry is farmed anyways. Not from the pond your eggs hatched in._

A group of humans and turians in armor walked in with somewhat of a commotion, with the turian bouncer sending me a hand signal to watch for any issues but treat them normally. I responded with the correct sign and moved to the side several were approaching from, my usual quiet service self-engaged. A pair of massive turians from the group walked up, I'd assume they were twins if such wasn't nearly impossible biologically, but the resemblance was uncanny even for siblings.

 _Perhaps they are._

"Treion Colony Brandy, tumbler to split."

I nodded and poured the requisite drink, taking the credit chit offered and slightly frowning at the lack of a tip. It wasn't a drink we had a lot of, and I'd have to watch if they wanted more later. Watching them walk away to the table, my tool pinged with requests from those at the table. A sigh as I filled several mugs that the server quickly grabbed, the female turian in light armor strolling away with hands full towards the jostling gang crowded around a square table and the haptic clawball game it was playing.

 _Should be happy your bored mind is blank, you can always turn to worse ruminations._

Time passed, the table slowly kept the pressure for drinks, luckily switching to a cheaper colony import when they couldn't taste as much. I entertained myself watching the biotiball match on the nearest table holo between customers and station care, not particularly caring about the match but still privately hoping the team from Europa would win over their counterparts from some "bucket" colony I'd never heard of.

 _Anyone eezo-exposed when a dust bomb went off in your marine hab deserves a better shot at life, never mind how they give a portion of their winnings and pay to Grissom Academy and Europa's Curie Medical Center. As for those colonies, I'd rather not have some local corp take most of their winnings anyways._

My eyes flicked off the screen when one of the humans approached, his face hidden behind a long set of bangs and mane. His skinny figure swaggered up to the counter, head turned back to focus on the group he was with, or on the asari dancer who'd walked in and was on her way upstairs for shift in the VIP area. I couldn't tell.

 _Something about the walk is odd, be careful._

I braced myself slightly, confident the arrival wouldn't do anything bluntly stupid but setting my hand near the emergency barrier's button just in case while the other drifted nearer to my pistol subconsciously. He stopped staring at the asari after bumping into the counter and turned around, hair whipping around to finally reveal his face. I blanked for a second.

 _That can't be, no way he'd be all the way out here. Probably just similar._

He spoke first before his eyes looked to me. "Hey pal, what do you have on special? Crew's spending big but I want to stay a bit thrifty, don't necessarily tru-"

He stopped, eyes finally turning to meet my face as his voice trailed off.

"Niko? Good god man I thought you were on the Citadel, whatavu been doing all way out here?

I chuckled at the pleasant surprise, confused but happy to see an old friend put here. "It's been…"

I trailed off as I tried to figure out what to say. My mood fell at the action as fast as it had risen seeing my friend.

 _Ah, there's a reason you haven't called any of them in a long time isn't there. Even if I never admitted it, I didn't want to say what I did. Murderer indeed, something you totally want childhood friends to know._

Deciding discretion was best course for now, I shrugged and made a nonchalant comment, a slight pang through my heart at brushing off someone I'd grown up with.

"Not while I'm working Henry."

His facial expression fell into a slight frown, a brief moment of confusion visible before he grabbed the drink I'd rung up at the start and headed back to the table.

 _I'm really going to do that? Someone I've known for fifteen years of my life turned away because it's inconvenient. What the hell am I doing? It's for his safety, you really want him around you after what happened? How would everyone else react if you got him killed? Why does that even matter? I haven't seen them in years anyways._

"Hey, Henry." I quickly spoke while he was still in earshot. "I'm sorry. I'm on shift for another five hours. We can talk then, catch up a bit."

He smiled at the end, and I ignored the feeling that I'd just kicked a puppy. I smiled in turn as his posture took a more positive note and he responded. "I'd like that Niko, It's okay."

He walked back to join the group of turians and humans, a glass of the closest thing we had to his favorite bourbon in hand with a few purified ice cubes. He settled into the group next to a taller woman, cozying up as she took a trying sip of his drink.

 _Interesting, guess he finally got out of that asshat Rey's clutches._

I leaned on the counter and took a closer look at the group he was with, an attempt to gauge what he'd been up to in the past few years to end up here. The pair of nearly identical male turians and a single female sans fringe all had the same markings and plate shading. Siblings for the turian group, with Henry and his apparent partner taking up two thirds of the human portion. The last member caught my eye and was likely why the bouncer had sent a tip, a medium-build human with what I'd assumed to be body armor at first made me stare for a moment.

 _That's not something I've seen often. Other than the one cybered-up FCW vet who was a regular when you were working at the citadel. Tends to turn heads a lot, especially when it's that...blatant._

I suppressed an involuntary shudder at the sight, instead taking note of the aesthetics of said works. She had a mix of human-replica styled parts and blatant upgrades, the three-prong grasper limb in place of the left arm caught my eye more immediately, before I noticed the ski-like feet with Hamakar Interaction Plates. Said plates folded up into the leg piece to hide the gait when not in functional use or fit into armor.

 _Why does this bug me? I have civilian gene-mods, rather expensive ones that I blew a lot of income on when I was younger at that. How can I look at that and assume they're worse? It could be an injury. Hell, that could've been me if I wasn't as lucky._

I ignored the issue with an exacerbated shake of my head, switching my view back to the biotiball game. I privately cheered a bit as Europa was in the lead, only a few anti-climactic minutes left before they secured victory. The VI automatically switched to another stream when the match concluded, and I paid the new game no mind as another customer came up to make a request.

 _Should get one of the screens to a news feed later on. Note to self: Ask Traesh later._

* * *

Half an hour left on my shift, the club had filled up with significantly more patrons as the night drew on. humans and turians mingled despite the amino difference, with the occasional batarian or asari also amongst the crowd. Each beat of the base now only lingered slightly in my ribs as they healed, and the lack of smoking on the primary floor helped keep things clean. Traesh had worked his way out to interact with some krogan customers and noted my nod of thanks as he bought me time to blend the ryncol with melted lard and a few other oddities that allowed it to form an emulsion for their drinks.

Passing the jugs of uncomfortably warm beverage to the group necessitated the server - Tianna - to make a pair of trips, and I'd already moved on to a mid-caste batarian customer when Traesh's booming voice rang out.

"Zeneska, over here."

I gave a gentle rotation of my head to the left in apology to the batarian, then looked at the two krogan my boss was with. While both lacked the secondary spike fringe my boss had, they still weren't very similar. The one on the left was taller than Traesh, a more average height for a krogan despite being hindered by a relatively small hump. His eyes were the typical yellow, the skin a mottled yellow-green tinged with grey and standing out from the almost black crest. The second was shorter in body, but with a larger hump that towered over the other two krogan. His crest was odd and mutilated, dozens of rings individually pierced into the bone plate that made a form of chain-esque armor and revealed flashes of a pale blue surface underneath.

 _You should really get a nice flamer module for your tool. Okay, and with that I'm getting paranoid. Probably justifiable at this point._

I rolled my shoulders and vaulted over the bar instead of walking to the folding section, then strolled towards the group of krogan and tried not to give any sign of my nervousness. Traesh kept his head turned so a single eye could track me from the side, while the one without the crest rings turned to face me completely.

"What do you need boss?" I asked, taking a firm stance with my hands relaxed behind my back. "Some more drinks for your guests? Or should I grab some of the rations you keep stashed?"

"It is nothing of that sort, human. I know I said we were "even" before, but I wish to inform you that I may have an opportunity for you to make some cash."

I opened my mouth to speak up, tilting my head slightly up before I was cut off.

"Not now human, tomorrow. I waved you over so these two business folk-" I glanced between the other two krogan at the words. "- could give any comments on you, and so you'd be familiarized with them."

"I got a comment, why you sending a pyjak with a dinky little rifle with us? Why not one of your asari dancers with biotics. The Syella you spoke of prior, or even one of the turian bouncers? What purpose does the squishy mammal serve?"

 _At least he hasn't threatened to eat me._

Taking a hint from Traesh, I raised my omni-tool at the mention of biotics and activated the haptics momentarily, trying not to back away from the rancid breath as the large-humped krogan with the plate rings got into my face, his gaping maw made me almost flinch at the smell.

 _And this is why Traesh surprised me at first. I'm more used to this shit from krogan given the citadel experience. Surprised there's so many there really, I wonder if they're leftovers from when they were lauded as heroes._

Traesh answered, both to chastise the other krogan and provide me with a modicum of details. "You know how she is Urb, sending another blue isn't going to be taken well and a batarian she'd just kill. Turian or Human to get her respect, and Nikolai seems competent enough based on past conversation. He has some surprisingly decent dampening programs on that tool of his, should help if things go south. Otherwise you show up and negotiate the trade with her, then pick it up the next day. Simple."

 _You going to go up against a biotic for more money, are you fucking stupid considering this? Not really though, I don't want to make Traesh think I owe him at all after the incident with my tool, despite what he says at least this is a favor for a favor. I'll have two Krogan for discouragement. Yes, since you know that means so much Nikolai, remember the Blue Suns Krogan on Horizon?_

I wavered for a few seconds and tried my best not to shift under the gazes from three significantly larger reptiles.

 _Dammit_

I reigned in a sigh to maintain appearances and answered." Okay boss, I'll do it."

Traesh nodded and turned to face between the two other krogan. "Human will do it, just let him talk and look as tough as you usually do and it should go well. I'll give him his tale later on.

My boss gave me a dismissive wave as I rolled my eyes at the comment, taking a moment to harden my stare at each of the other krogan before returning the way I'd came, counter-vault included. I settled back behind the counter and watched the pair leave, another customer order flagged on my omni-tool that I ignored for a few seconds. I'd just filled the next order when his voice rang out again in my direction.

"Nikolai, your shift is almost finished and you seem disposed. Go grab one of the Trident swills you're so fond of and get out from behind the counter. I'll comm Vetrarian to come out a few minutes early and pick up the end of his shift later."

 _You haven't had a drink since before you were using the maxx, sure you want to break that streak? Yep, may as well actually socialize with someone I haven't seen in years._

I'd started in surprise at him sending me off twenty-six minutes early, but quickly gave a nod of thanks and had rummaged to grab a northern blend of the drink, slightly more acidic in taste with less of a salty tone then the general equatorial mix I'd usually go for. I took the time to exit the bar area properly this time and made my way to the folding-up section to exit. As I left the center, I checked the area, a quick glance revealed Henry and his group were still at the same table. The humans on the booth with turianoid chairs pulled up around the open side for their fitted species. Based on noise and body language the inebriation level had gone up at the table.

I looked at the drink I'd grabbed at my boss's request, contemplating it for a few seconds.

 _Sure you want to? It's easier to avoid altogether, but it also is something that was never an issue until before. You made what, one bad mistake? Said mistake caused by drinking probably got a bunch of people killed and made you more of a murderer. Was it? I doubt my presence did much._

I'd opened my drink on the way and took a long sip immediately.

 _Such a good idea. Maybe I can get used to normalizing this again?_

As I approached Henry he must have caught sight, for moments later he turned around from his new partner and called out with as much enthusiasm as I'd expected while seeming forgiving my prior dismissive stance.

"Niko! Good to see you still keep your word! Come, I'll scooch over to give you room."

He shuffled over to the side, squishing the woman next to him into the wall and leaning back into her to give me a space. Her face flustered for a second before she glared at me, then turned down to stare at Henry when I cocked an eyebrow.

"Why is the bartender coming towards us? Spirits Henry did you make a friend again? Could've at least asked for a discount or something if you're chatting up the staff"

I glanced at the turian across the table as she chided him, then shuffled into the offered spot and took another long gulp of my drink. The sour-salty drink brew lovingly parched my mouth as it went down, and I set the glass in a free spot on the table. I leaned back slightly and intended to speak, but Henry beat me to it. As usual.

"Nah, I didn't make a friend Katyain. I know Niko from Earth, went to school with him before he went off world." He turned from her and spoke to me directly. "Last time I saw you in person was before you left, then some messages from when you were on the Citadel."

I winced slightly, then leaned onto the table with my elbows as I tried to think what to say. I took another long sip of my drink to help and felt everyone's eyes on me as I did so.

"I left the Citadel Henry, I've only been on Emerald for a few weeks now."

His expression became a lot more serious. "No shit Nikolai, I can see you left it. Thought things were going pretty well, last I heard you at least had an apartment and a job in the wards. That's a hell of a lot better than a lot of people get. So what happened, what'd you do?"

I let out a purposeful sigh, moving to crack my neck and frowning when I couldn't get the motion range to do so in the armor. "A few things happened and I had to leave Henry, but it looks like you got yourself a decent crew anyways. Miners? Scouts? I sure as hell didn't fare you as the merc type."

His body language and facial tics let me know he noticed my evasion, but he still gave me an answer. "Shamshui series-six freighter crew. Twelve of us in total on the ship, we've got a run between a few of the traverse colonies. Mostly we ship some non-prefab goods to a few class-5 settlements, drop their wares at Albetto."

The cybered-up woman chose to speak, admittedly surprising me with a vibrant voice instead of the flat drone I'd expected. "One-sided conversation so far."

"Yeah, it is. Look Henry, I left the Citadel May twentieth last year. Worked security on Freedom's Progress for a bit before I again had to leave and came here. I don't know how your year's been, but I've really not been in the mindset to talk to any of my friends."

"You were never good at staying in touch with friends while away."

 _I know he's right. Dammit what do I actually say?_

"Dammit Henry I killed people. Doing my job caused it twice, and the second time was intentionally. It's why I'm bartending and not on security anymore, I don't want the same situation."

I wasn't going to mention afterwards. I didn't want disgust or pity.

The turian spoke up again, her unique voice somewhat inaudible due to the general noise but still clear enough for me to make out the words with some effort. "Nikolai, we don't even know yo-"

I rudely cut her off, caught in my own tirade.

"You didn't need to know that. I didn't want any of my friends to know that, it's part of why I didn't call. Pathetic as this probably sounds to the turians and ex-alliance lady in the corner." I glanced at the cyborg and tapped the spot on my neck where the Alliance "A" tat was peeking out from the collar on hers.

"But really Henry, I'm okay here. I've got a place to stay and a job, both of which are relatively safe. The planet has enough interest to warrant a force that staves off pirates, and well, yeah…" I trailed off once again, looking down at my drink before taking another long, parching swig.

Swig complete, I looked back up. The atmosphere of the group had shifted, no longer as boisterous and upbeat as before I came. The Turians were quiet, unsure what to say to the human. The ex-alliance borg didn't care, and Henry's partner was still shooting me a somewhat pissed-off glance. His demeanor had fell, shoulders slumped despite the maintained smile.

 _Yeah, time to go. This didn't work out how I wanted it to and it's better to leave. This is why you usually stay quiet dipshit._

I got up and downed the rest of my drink quickly, then blanched for a second at the intensity. After scooching my way out of the booth, I turned around to say something, tripping over air as my mouth opened and nothing came out.

 _Looks like he has some new friends, some new crew. Better then you'd be at this point anyways._

I shook my head and waved goodbye, fast steps out through the door of the establishment and into the cooler night air. I ignored my surroundings as I walked on autopilot, not bothering to glance back at the club until it was out of sight. I'd stopped momentarily, a moment to try and catch up and think for a minute when I'd noticed the other club - Pulsar Lenaya- nearby, raunchy signs plastered on the walls. I stared at the door, noting the mercs and miners crowded outside loitering.

 _I'd kill for a hit of maxx- ah shit, that's not a good thought._

I almost turned to walk to Xorinal's place at the thought of the maxx, before I stopped myself and shook my head, despite its desire lingering with several unpleasant visual memories. I again glanced at the club, sorely tempted to head inside the much less reputable location.

 _Head home Zeneska, you really should just head home._

I ignored the rationalization and walked closer to the club, the tones of batarian beat-cants becoming more audible the closer I got, with tinges of the terminus asari remix nature peeking through in oddly bright notes. I stopped across the street, then took a moment to analyze the crowd outside. Krogan bouncers in armor I couldn't place held Batarian-made AT-11 Protector "crowd control" shotguns in their arms and stood watch over the gathered people outside. I'd noticed the crowd wasn't a lineup or waiting area, but another aspect of the socialization free from any restrictions inside so long as within the law.

I dismissed my nerves and crossed the street after a truck had passed by, then stopped on the edge of the building and leaned against the wall for a moment, still contemplating entry despite the losing battle of rationality. Given it was Emerald, everyone was armed - that wasn't a surprise. Notably however, everyone had actual armor suits akin to what I was wearing rather than the usual flak jackets or light plate miners and omni-foundry workers would wear for general protection.

 _Crowd is mostly mercs, security specialists and the paranoid. Likely more krogan bouncers to discourage anything and enforce a mutually assured death clause. May as well, got nothing else productive tonight._

After brushing past a group of planetary defense force troops in armor lingering on the corner of the crowd I managed to slip into the entrance area. The krogan bouncers regarded me with an eye each as I walked past, one checking my metrics on his omni-tool as I passed through the scanners undoubtedly at the entrance.

"Don't cause any trouble or human, self-defense only and try to keep it non-lethal."

 _Totally safe, just a bunch of armed scum and hardasses with gear and guns. Probably only works because half the customers are EDF troops. How the fuck is this legal?_

I stepped inside, not bothering to do my usual comparisons and instead shuffling up to the curved, thessian-inspired bar that took up a chunk of the closest wall. I took a seat on the end stool next to white-haired soldier in EDF colours, the only available spot on the line. The human bartender looked at me for a moment before I pointed at the low-quality tequila and held up four fingers. I got a nod and the clear-silver liquid was placed in a glass in front of me moments later, slice of reddish-purple Terra Novan plainsapple fruit on the rim of the glass to bite when I was done. I took a gulp and downed the quadruple before biting down on the tart, buttery fruit as the liquor burned down my throat. I isolated a credit chit and set up a tab as I ordered another, receiving and downing it just as quickly as the previous before settling to stare at the glass for a bit.

The effect of eight drinks in succession kicked in, and the background patterns of my random idle thoughts faded away into blissful silence. I looked up, motion continued a few degrees more than necessary before stopping as my head panned right to left across the floor. A wall to the right of my seat gave way to a path between the sidebar I was at and the dextro-serving island in the center. A single elcor in plated gear stood in the center, the automatic droning of its voice translator audible through the mix of dialects my implant was barely picking up on. Everyone gave the large being a wide berth, even intoxicated most knew better then to annoy the car-sized creature from a high-gravity world to the point it's temper finally got the better.

 _Good for you to keep Henry safe like that Niko, he really doesn't need the luck you've had lately to follow him around. Just keep in mind a lovely thought, the scene your friend and his new crew warming up a ship as you flee to them, only to watch them die one by one for coming to your aid. No Niko, you really don't need to be around an old friend at all._

The bartender paid my frozen stance during contemplation no mind, only giving a flick of her eyes when I signaled for another drink, only holding two fingers up. I gave a small tip and got an extra fruit wedge, which I placed in my mouth but didn't chew whilst I resumed my more routine scan of the bar, surely losing details as my head started to swim. The dextro bar had mostly turians in colonial marked gear with a few outliers, traders and other individuals in common unmarked hierarchy hardsuits. The occasional human sat intermixed, enjoying a general tolerance for most of the selection that our digestive tract afforded compared to an Asari or Salarian despite the inaccurate general mindset.

Tales of exploits, cheap boasts and flirtatious conversations mingled for attention alongside shop talk, hushed conversations and general friendly banter that I didn't bother to focus on despite it being once again drawn to my attention by a sudden shift. My gaze shifted to the group of asari standing next to the bar, a single one in Eclipse colours and two in unidentifiable matching hardsuits that were talking to a grizzled turian merc with a cybernetic eye and a human EDF customs officer on off-hours, still wearing her armor with the "duty flipper" set to red.

I steeled my gaze when one of the asari met my gaze, mimicking the glare I received with apprehension and probably an unintentional trace of a leer before my adrenaline spiked. I realized just how close her eyes were to Syella's and in my state only focused on the similarities, backing away and falling off the stool due to the recognition and combination with my mood. She gave a condescending smirk and nudged the Turian, but I'd took the moment of distraction to quickly reseat myself and maintain my sweep to avoid any repercussive glares. I glazed over most of the tables, the mix of turians and humans in colonial defense uniform hardsuits not particularly interesting aside from the occasional odd but unremarkable appearance. A few of the tables held more obvious mercenaries, mostly freelancers in random gear despite the occasional Eclipse, Blue Suns or Nova Fist coloured hardsuit poking through the mix. Only three groups I'd recognized from cursory knowledge.

 _Why did you even come here? To drink away sorrows and watch the crowd of beings in armor and tempt fate? This gives me nothing, no perspective or resolution. Even dulled your thoughts still linger on more recent actions, perhaps you should have stayed at Traesh's, tried to talk to Henry one final time._

I stood up from my spot, a moment of disorientation at the motion passed quickly when I moved to lean against the wall, rifle and shoulder against the omni-dispensed material while my eyes glazed in a blank stare.

 _This is a waste, head back and try to salvage something. You haven't spoken to most of your friends for years. You owe them this much._

Another emotionally-driven course of action decided that I move towards the exit, inebriated enough to feel like I was flowing but likely just narrowly avoiding collisions with other drunk patrons. I didn't bother leaving a tip for the bartender, already having moved on in my mind. I ignored the cacophony of conversations while I rushed for the exit, then stepped out into the lit-up street. I continued on my walk, only to be confused for a second when the ground started to get a lot closer as something tapped my leg.

I realized I was falling and managed to get my hands out slightly, catching myself before rolling and sitting up so my gun didn't uncomfortably hit the ground. I pushed myself up and leaned against the wall, noticing one of the Krogan bouncers was walking towards me. I followed his gaze over my shoulder and let out a groan at the sight, the same eclipse-dressed merc and the turian veteran next to where I'd fallen, having apparently tripped me out of drunken amusement or viciousness.

My spirits buoyed by liquid confidence I stood again, making a show of dusting off my armor while I glared at the pair. The bouncer edged in, clear that if we got close to the actual club body parts would go flying, but also willing to see a single human get smeared in a drunken brawl.

 _I could maybe take the turian sober given I have armor on and he doesn't, still don't want those claws anywhere near my face. Neural shock mine? Asari might get barrier up and I'm screwed._

My mouth opened, a flicker of thought slipped into my vocal cords before I could consciously think on the words. "I didn't do anything to you. Fucking Eclipse joygirl."

 _Why did I just say that?_

Her corona flared as I tensed, omni-tool manufacturing a dampening dart for launch. Neither of us moved, the krogan bouncer now aiming his shotgun in our general direction as a few other patrons looked on in curiosity. I saw credits change hands via omni-tool and frowned, knowing this wouldn't be particularly enjoyable.

"Look, I didn't mean anything. I've got other stuff to do." I tried my hand at diplomacy.

The turian took the time to comment. "Human, give an apology."

Before I could stop myself I laughed, my mouth ran away with the next sentence bolstered by intoxication and general annoyance as my brain scrambled to catch up.

"Apology? I met her eyes for a few seconds while sweeping the room. Try getting an apology from one of the dozen beings leering at her armor-plated blue ass instead of the one with too much on his mind to care for such. This is a waste of your fucking time turian."

I moved to walk away, slowly keeping my head in position where my field of view could keep an eye on them as I walked away, confident that they weren't going to follow and do anything aggressive. Happy at my flustered resolution, I caught sight of the turian making a gesture he had to have learned from a human and laughed again, moving on as I'd automatically reacted in my state. My reaction was an Asari gesture I'd learned from Syella, my two hands moving through the motion that should never have been used without proper consideration.

The eclipse merc's expression dropped for a second, before twisting into what I assumed was shocked outrage while the turian blankly stared between her and me in confusion. My brain decided to kick in and I started to run, dashing down an alley I knew would let me lose the pair if they followed. Footsteps followed behind me, each fall echoing in time with my own pace as I activated the armor's stabilization systems and fumbled to get my helmet on, managing to mash my still-damaged nose into a bleeding state and almost barrel into a corner in the process. I turned as I passed it, the leftwards path taking me between more unique structures instead of the easily predictable prefabs common in the area.

I ducked between the next set of buildings, then took another left to dart back into the main street. I crossed it in a few moments, barely aware of the crowd parting with various reactions. I darted into the alley on the opposite side, intending to turn towards Traesh's place for refuge and for unfinished business.

Nausea from exertion in my state was starting to build up, yet I continued to push on in fearful panic. I passed between a pair of miners heading home from work, catching their repeated exclamations several seconds afterwards as my pursuers still followed. I didn't look back, but only a single set of normal-sounding footsteps was audible.

 _Likely the asari, not too willing to use biotics in her state or can't charge. Turian would have caught up at the beginning without issue and swept you aside. You need to stop soon or you're going to vomit. Think._

I stumbled as my train of thought derailed and a headache flared, tripping on an old crate into the hallway and sent into the air with a sense of deja vu. My speed kept me carrying on for several seconds before I slammed into the ground and rolled instinctively to break the fall, still managing to jar my nose enough for the bleeding to resume and add further to the already iron-rich odor of my helmet. I attempted to scramble up before I felt myself leave the ground, lift field enveloping my limbs as I slowly spiraled and tried not to puke in my helmet.

I heard the eclipse asari speak from behind me. "Finally. Caught you. Stupid ape." Short on breath and slightly slurred her voice was still sharpened by anger. "You're not going." Another breath. "To get away after that."

I felt a tingle as I lifted off my feet, then a blow of force at my back as I slammed into the nearest structure before the field failed. I scraped down the side, a grinding whine in the air as my armor scratched against the rougher building material. I let out a grunt when I hit the ground, looking up to see her corona-wreathed form before she thrusted her arm forward in a memetic before I could raise my own omni-tool.

 _Why did I do this._

I'd expected to be thrown into the wall at bone-breaking speed. I got lucky and was only clipped by the edge of the field, sent to spin into the wall for some nasty bruises as the intoxicated Eclipse Asari staggered at the exhaustion. In my state I couldn't roll in time and had to watch her stagger closer as flickers of a corona briefly manifested and failed in tune with her wavering concentration. A last throw was flung my way, but already on the ground I rolled with it and plastered myself against the wall comparatively gently.

Raising myself to a crouch, I felt a non-biotic kick bounce on my chest and do little through my armor. Expecting a repeat, I managed to catch the second attack and twist the leg, which sent the pair of us to the ground again. I rolled away and into the wall, ignoring the tenderness from the same spot managing to hit it all three times.

Finally getting to my feet I grimaced. I glanced at the still-floored Eclipse merc and looked at the UI icon for my never-used immunity package with a frown as I re-mounted my helmet. I took a breath and stepped away before breaking into a lopping run out of the area.

At the end of the block and near Traesh's I turned back and used a camera to zoom in. The turian she'd been with prior looked at her stumbling form and glanced my direction in drug-addled confusion, not quite sure what to do before the other two asari they'd been with each grabbed one by an arm and led them away, ignoring me entirely as I stumbled my way into Traesh's place. My head started to pound from the action and alcohol as the adrenaline wore off. I triggered the painkiller dispense on my suits medical suite and felt the telltale prick, sighing as relief flooded my veins.

 _Great. Another thing you've taken too much pleasure in lately._

As I got closer the bouncers at the door glanced at me in recognition. Both of the turian's flicked their mandibles at my state, a blood-painted face and crimson streaked on the front of my armor an apt attention grabber. One of them stayed to watch the door while the other dropped into a turian sprint and closed the distance, awkwardly trying to place arms for support despite unfamiliarity with human kinematics. He settled with hooking his hands under my arms around from the side and hoisting. We both ignored the grinding of armor plates from our suits as I relaxed into the grip, lifted clean off my feet by the armor's servo assist and larger species musculature.

I accepted the action and drunkenly grimaced in discomfort, the turian doing his best to stay stable as I was carried through the door. A chirping whistle cleared a small path, and I watched the crowd stare for a few seconds and murmur before quickly going back to their previous attentions as we passed through the club. One of the other bouncers strode beside us as escort, having joined from outside my field of view as we approached the employee's area at the back.

Upon entering the door, I was carted to the same seat I'd sat in prior to my shift. Seconds later I was gently but unceremoniously dumped into it by the bouncer. I moved to stand up. My head buzzed, still numbed from the painkillers as the room got foggier by the second. The bouncer mumbled something - my translator picked it out - but I didn't consciously acknowledge the words as he walked away. One of the dancers took a seat next to me, watching as another human bouncer walked into the room with a cleaning tool and started getting the blood off the front of my armor's torso, blissfully silent.

The dancer spoke up, her voice cutting through the silence as she interrogated me out of concern for another employee returning in this state.

"Zeneska right?"

I nodded in acknowledgement, trying to focus on her words. She relaxed slightly when I responded.

"Alright kid. You don't look too well but you seem to be intact. Wait for Traesh to get down and he ca-".

Her voice trailed off, unneeded as the heavy footfalls of armored Krogan took its spot. I looked up to see my boss walk into the room alone, neither of the krogan from before present. He looked at me and at the bouncer wiping blood off my armor and nodded when the dancer gave me a fabricated cloth for my face. I started to clean it and felt the sting of disinfectant on small cuts as I did so, stomach unsettled by the antiseptic smell in my state.

"Human, you got slammed up doing your job before. But I have yet to see you act stupid enough for it to happen when your drinking. Mentioning it I seem to recall you not drinking much prior to this either, but that's also not relevant."

I nodded, not in the mood to argue and just wanting to go home.

"I would like to know what actually happened here, so stop being a wimp and tell me. You did show up here after all Nikolai."

I grunted, then leaned forwards and removed the cloth from my face before responding, words slurring slightly despite my efforts.

"Went to Pulsar Lenaya to drink, accidentally pissed off an Eclipse Merc. Asari, apparently enough for her to do this. Not super surprising given the…" I trailed off, not sure of the gesture's actual name. I signed it quickly for reference, and saw the dancer plant her face into her hands in the corner with a sharp breath of air.

Traesh let out a laugh at the action, clapping me on the shoulder before his face twisted into disapproval for a krogan. "Don't pick fights above your level human. You can't regrow everything - not without a lot of money anyway." He looked to the turian bouncer who'd dragged me in. "Take him back to his place and see he gets there unharmed."

We left the establishment, I'd managed to wave off the offer to be carried and walked on my own unsteady feet until we reached the employees exit instead of cutting through the main crowd. I exited the building and turned towards my place, ignoring the other beings on the street. Halfway to the apartment I stumbled and was lifted up as a result, slung over the armored shoulder like a sack of flour and resigned to giving door instructions and clumsily using my omni-tool for the lock when we got close.

Opening the door, I stepped into the room and was greeted with the smell of takeout and Asari honey-mead, both left on the small table across from the small couch in the central area. I waved away the turian after a brief protest and closed the door, uselessly glaring at Syella passed out on the couch with splayed limbs. I rolled my eyes and walked past her without a second thought to grab the blanket from her cot and drape it over her sleeping form before slowly removing my own armor. No longer hooked up to the medical suite my headache came back, and I popped some painkillers and rolled onto my side after slowly easing onto my cot.

 _You still need to go to Traesh's tomorrow, hope whatever his job is don't end up getting you killed. No messing up like today, or you won't be able to walk it off. And yeah, you need to do this. High-quality reshaping of your armor after the last mess cracked some panels cost a good amount of your savings, even with the bounty from the slavers ship and assorted pay you've scrounged._

* * *

 **CODEX - M-080 Bull AFV**

 **The M-080 'Bull' armored fighting vehicle was part of the crash-series of new vehicles developed during the First Contact War. Intended primarily as a logistics unit the interior is relatively spacious to accommodate a variety of cargo, or to house an extended troop module for passenger transport. Twin cockpit modules provide a clear view of the terrain for the driver and commander at the expense of armored protection, while large tires provide ground clearance for uneven terrain.**

 **Now the vehicle is held mostly as a reserve unit in Alliance garrisons but remains a staple for local militia's and mercenary groups. It's sealed interior compartment and small embankment airlock allow it to be used in most conditions, though it lacks the vertically-aligned mass effect core later vehicles have.**

 **While the stock logistics models are unarmed, several variants do exist which serve as dedicated weapons platforms. Commonly sold modules include a 145mm mass accelerator or munitions rack intended for surface site bombardment or GTS duties.**


	5. Chapter 5 - Iustitia

**A/N: Break's over. Reworking future content a good amount. Also not entirely happy with the pacing for this one, could use feedback.  
**

* * *

 _3...2...1..._  
 _ **Activation**_ _ **  
**_

Welcome to the Calatrava-XX-Tau Omni-Forge user interface. Would you like to initiate the tutorial?  
 _ **Confirmed**_

Splendid! As the interface VI I'm programmed to assist you with any legal tasks you use this device for, within setup law and fabrication rights restrictions.  
 _ **Skip to Omni-gel**_

Reading CODEX entry: Omni-gel is a-  
 _ **Skip section**_

Fabrication grades are a combination of the abilities of your converter and mini-factory, along with the material quality used. Generally graded on a one to ten scale, the grade represents the performance of the microfactured product based on how well it was made, and the purity or quality of materials put into its frame, internal components and systems. Civilian gear is often extremely diverse with many uses for a omni-forge with attached printer, allowing the creation of purchased toys, tools, textiles-  
 _ **Skip subsection**_

Military gear is divided with legal constraints based on Citadel laws for production, though ownership of these items should be checked with local authorities. While this is a generalization, most civilian self-defense or sporting gear ranges from grade one to three, with frontier or higher-quality stuff being divergent. Military use varies on purpose and-  
 ** _Skip subsection  
Downloading to hardsuit computer.  
Deactivating  
3...2...1..._**

* * *

Date: 20/5/2182 Gregorian Calendar, Emerald.

I was snapped out of sleep again, not by a nightmare but by the alarm the V.I. screamed into the room. Syella also woke, startled but not lighting up in a corona. A glance towards me as I pulled up my omni-tool to confirm the alarm. It confirmed the sender ID, the timestamp on the security camera footage sent to my inbox. Syella squeezed beside me to get a look, and I hit the play button. The screen showed unmistakable red armor of the justicar, her dark-blue skin tone and grey eyes passing through customs at the spaceport on the northern continent. She was on-planet, and the information broker an uncomfortable amount of our salary from Traesh's place went towards proved their worth in ten seconds of footage.

 _You spent those credits well, and you thought they were a waste. Nice job in this case with the paranoia, maybe it's enough to keep you alive? Still wonder how she got out of Freedom's Progress alive after that mess._

"Janiri's cursed-" preceded something untranslatable as Syella swore, already having bolted off her cot to put her armor on in the corner. Her voice warbled with nerves through the mumbled curses, the nameless pursuer a lethal possibility. I had a glimpse of a memory, a broken couple leaking out from ruptured armor seals on Freedom's Progress, victims of one of the crescent-shaped shockwaves that had smeared the defensive line of wanderers and petty criminals across the pavement. I pushed the thought aside, more effort required without the focusing effects of the maxx as I almost felt the need to vomit when the smell came back in my mind, I felt a armor seal pinch my finger as the glove tested itself, it gave me something to focus on and snap out of remission. I slipped the rest of my armor on, grabbed the survival pack that I had made in the same style as Syella's, and immediately headed to the bathroom to empty the medicine cabinet into my hardsuit pockets and dispenser with an annoying sense of deja vu.

The apartment VI blared progress reports as it purged local files and settings, Syella had set the command as she made her preparations. The medical cabinet looted, my credit chits recovered, and the apartment lease labelled as cancelled at the VI's tone I headed out of the bedroom to the general area. Syella was already armored and geared up, having shoved some of our dry goods into her pack, she grabbed the tupari bottles and slid them onto her belt's otherwise empty grenade bandoleer. I stifled a laugh at the sight, brought up my omni-tool to ping the info broker and see what the status was. A significant portion of credits got deducted from my account, and a map of the continent appeared, tracking a shuttle cab as it headed towards Guinessburg, still an hour out and a good chunk of the continent away but far too close for my liking at modern transit speeds.

We left the apartment in silence, stepping out into the dark morning. Too tense for idle conversation as I stopped to hail a groundcar, tired confusion when Syella slapped my arm down and glared through her visor. I realized my tired folly at leaving a trail and cancelled the order. We took off at a light jog down the street, armor assist on just enough to support its own weight, saving power in case of emergency but trying not to burn our own reserves.

The pair of us scurried down the streets, jogged past the trickle of those out late or working in the dark as we scrambled to reach the spaceport. We went past a group of Emerald's colonial defense forces on patrol, an unusual sight given they were usually reserved for higher-tier issues or heavy police work. They paid the pair of us no mind, in their eye just another pair of freelancers or experienced civilians out on business in a bustling town. I took a moment to sync the distance and map of the justicars location from my omni-tool to my helmet HUD, throwing the headgear on from its shoulder mount as I did so. The hardsuit computer gave us thirty-two minutes, indicating her speed had increased.

The spaceport wasn't outside the town, but rather had a strict set of approach vectors and lanes for different purposes, each managed by a group of traffic control analysts, operators and a set of VI programs that assisted them. There was usually a small trickle of skycars, shuttles and the occasional spaceplane travelling through their designated corridors, a handful of fighter-config Mantis and Scorpion aircraft watching for trouble.

 _The traffic lanes seem way too empty for the time, usually bustling with shuttles and pinnaces from the on-planet traffic, never mind the atmospheric vehicles._

A single batarian with greying skin and a braided beard spoke, others in the crowd looking at him as he got in the face of the turian wearing colonial defense force armor. "You speak an insult saying stuff is grounded! We need to move our goods before they spoil."

The turian held his hand up in a placating gesture, mandibles flicked in tension as a few dozen annoyed individuals pressed in, shouting and ranting about various issues the delay would cause before the chirping voice rang out. "Sir I'm sorry. I'd lift the order if I could, but this came in directly from the traffic control boss in the capital's spaceport. I don't have the authority to overturn this, and Iryial T'rona didn't give me a reason for the lockdown."

Syella pinged on my helmet comm, keeping her voice from playing outside. "Goddess-damned traffic control, if she's asari she might have been convinced to hold things up for an hour while we get dragged in. Can you hack an air car to go outside the city limits?"

I stopped myself from shaking my head, keeping my response under wraps from outside scrutiny. "It's a port city, too much security for the programs my omni-tool has. How the hell'd she get off-world from last time?"

"Most Citadel asari are going to lend a ride if asked, probably hopped out on the same ship she got a ride there from."

 _Somewhat useful, but she must have fought her way to them or managed to sneak away. Colony police might have let her go for wiping out a problematic spot or tried to stop her for the mess she made. Won't be surprised if they tighten security later._

We stopped moving, staring at the crowd for a precious minute while I racked my brain. Syella tugged on my arm and I glanced at the time, twenty-five minutes until arrival. I dropped a cheap camera from my trick supply on the wall and secured it with a spot-weld from my omni-tool, then linked the feed to my helmet. I'd have video of the departures area with a few seconds delay, hopefully enough to confirm when the justicar arrived. I gave in to the tug I followed her, confused at the direction until I recognized the area she was dragging us to

 _No way out of the city, wilderness isn't very survivable and a groundcar is too easily picked up by an air vehicle. I'd have ran anyways, but I'll follow her to Traesh's. Old bastard may have something. You're going to get him killed though, haven't enough people died for you? It's like you want the kill count to go higher, some sick little aspect. No, he's tough enough to have a chance. I trust the guy for what it's worth and he should help after the delivery favor I did last week. That went well, but too bad the other krogan left, wouldn't complain about a bruiser._

The current bouncers did a double take upon seeing the pair of us in helmets and travel bags. Nonetheless they let us in as employees, and I followed Syella as she marched up to the office area. I tapped her shoulder and gave a series of heavy knocks on the door before she could barge in. A booming voice gave us permission to enter, and I watched the krogan in turn watch the pair of us. A thoughtful expression appeared on the old reptile's face as he took in our helmets and supply packs.

"Apparently you two sold the lease on your apartment and several of its contents today. Is this a really bad takeover attempt from some interesting employees or is something actually worthwhile going on?"

 _Think of something to say. Direct truth is tricky, might result in us getting kicked out. Our gear means he can't smell our fear as much at least, gives some leeway to lie. Am I seriously considering all the options here?_

"Someone's trying to kill us and the port's closed down." Syella spoke before I could, doing a decent job hiding the apprehension in her voice, though I could still pick it up along with a hint of something surprising. Malice, the same low-tone I'd heard at the slavers den. Not super comforting and I flinched away subconsciously as an image of black eyes came to mind.

"Indeed." Rumbled our boss. "You seemingly left my employment as part of an escape plan, so this obviously has you two splitlings scared as a pyjak in a varren den. Who exactly is after you? A gang enforcer? One of your pare-"

He cut off as I worked my omni-tool, haptic screen rimmed in orange pulling up with the counter and map on the corner. The krogan stared at the contents of the screen, specifically the dark blue asari in red armor visible in the preview window for the thirty-or-so seconds of footage we'd avoided playing in our panic. A stubby digit reached towards the interface and pressed, the footage started with said asari gracefully walking through the customs line, the asari officer letting her by to the annoyed glare of the human also in the booth. A group of six other asari followed, light armor visible under black robes with red trim that matched the justicars armor in shade. The cloth swirled around their hips as they walked after her, heads down and eyes averted from other glances. All had deep-red facial markings visible, the rest of their heads hidden under elastic-supported hoods that swept back and inwards near the neck to accommodate their crests.

There was silence from the krogan for five seconds, before a low growl made most of my hairs stand on end and my stance subtly shift. Very annoyed-looking eyes oriented towards the pair of us before our boss spoke, toothy maw open in a grimace that made me think of a smiling crocodile.

 _And with that, you just thought of Tingan. You going to repeat the habit of getting reptilian people killed to help you? No, I'm not. None of it was intended. But this is, you followed her here and figured it out as well._

"What hunk of maw-spit did you throw to warrant a justicar going after the pair of you? Has the mystery of my odd employees been one of drug runners?" His gaze lingered on my, the medical suite on my armor before going to the ground. "No, probably not given his evident stupidity with the maxx. You're not slavers, I'm sure of that given your arrival. No, you did something else. Maybe in asari space if she's after you here? Nikolai is the issue with this, he's better than most humans but still too quadless for anything serious. Syella, what did you drag him into?"

Syella shifted to her right and turned her head away. Her jaw quivered, unsure what to say and ridden with nerves. I glanced at her and then the timer. Only fourteen minutes projected, she'd sped up slightly. I cut in before my own nerves could get the better of me and make my state worse than tight muscles.

"We got in the way of a target, and the chase with us ended up dragging through a town and the highway before she got knocked down by an omni-rocket during a fight and we escaped, only to be dragged in by slavers. That's how we found our way here, escaping that mess."

 _I should have kept the footage, rather than deleting it after the clinic fiasco. Catering to ego it was action that would carry some weight._

Syella added on to my statement. "Gunfire and biotics were involved in the chase, us on a groundcar with her in a human hoverbike."

Traesh looked between the two of us with an unreadable expression. Quiet and pondering the situation as I'd started to shuffle, trying not to glance at the timer and failing to do so. I unsealed my armor, letting fresh air enter through the filter instead of wasting the supply.

 _Twelve minutes left, he can probably smell the adrenaline on me now that I opened my armor up._

Our boss answered, rumbling voice grating out. "All right, I'll try to talk her down. We'll kick the patrons out and you two can stay. This comes out of your wages though; you did good at your jobs while you were here and I protect my employees. Even splitlings who seem to be in over their heads."

Our boss stomped out of the office, then stopped at the corridor to press a panel. A set of krogan-fit medium armor was revealed, an Armax Arsenal suit with extra servos and kinetic weaves integrated into the under suit. Working the pieces on over his business attire, he turned on the intercom and spoke.

A crackle of static preceding before the voice boomed out. "All patrons, time to get out unless you want to help us in a fight. Staff gears up with the heavy stuff, we have incoming."

He thumbed the device off before turning to us to spoke again, visor flipping upwards to speak properly. "You two stay in the back, don't come out unless things come to blows. Patch in on the venue emergency comm frequency."

We stayed in his office, Syella swung around me and took a seat in his desk, pulling up the camera feeds with her security clearance so we could watch the exchange. Traesh placed the asari staff closest to the door, all of them now wore armor with a single set of commando leathers visible in the mix, shotguns and pistols issued while the turian and human bouncers formed firing lines, Mattock and Avenger rifles from the armory distributed. The salarian bartender stood behind the bar, dedicated tech-mine launcher ready and attached from his omni-tool. He had the turrets retracted still, though the deployable cover was up instead of using tables that would get chewed through by military equipment. The lights were dimmed to provide a night-vision advantage to the human and turian staff.

I chimed in on the link. "She has a shockwave-style attack, clumps are going to die." No response directly, but the teams of two split up into individuals behind each cover piece. I swallowed apprehension. Her biotics weren't going to make this clean, hopefully the staff with decent gear could match up while the dancers dealt with her support.

 _People are going to die, you know this. Can you watch from up here as those staff get ripped in half? As the dancers fall apart from warp fields or get smeared across the room? You've already become just as bad if so. Remember sitting in a bar mourning two? Add some zeroes._

Someone on the screen waved at the camera after I made the announcement, and my heart metaphorically skipped a beat when I zoomed in for clarity. Henry and two of the freighter crew on the line, one of the turians and the ex-alliance woman. I lunged to the door before my perception distorted suddenly, everything slightly blue-shifted as my inner ear screamed in protest. My limbs were locked in stasis, Syella's attempt to hold me back despite the body size difference.

"Nikolai, stop." Her voice was warbling still, but the same edge that made me uncomfortable was heavily present and weighing on her words. "Traesh might talk her down, but you running in is going to escalate things."

 _Calm, she has a point. He's as safe as you with the cyborg and all those guns, never mind the barrier curtains that should go up._

The field ended and I set the stream to feed to my helmet. My eyes watched the shuttle icon on the map as it stopped at the pad a mere block away. Syella noticeably tensed, moving suddenly to stand beside the door frame opposite from me. She drew her SMG, a momentary expression of effort as she flared her biotic corona and filled the room with blinding light. I drew my rifle and loaded the armor-piercing ammo block from my belt, hoping to be able to punch through the justicars armor if her barriers went down.

 _She doesn't wear a helmet, but it's not going to matter if she stays mobile enough to prevent you lining up a shot to her head. Stick to center of mass. Assuming her biotic and kinetic barriers actually get taken down anyways. Dammit Henry, why the hell are you here? Some attempt at providing an opportunity for apology?_

An empty, gut-wrenching minute of anticipation had passed before we moved back behind the desk simply to watch the feed directly rather than stream to our HUD's. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and watched Syella visibly flinch as the camera showed the justicar approach outside the building. I had to stop myself from running down, torn between desires.

 _I'll assume she just checked a local directory or asked around for where we worked. Or a local information broker. That, or you got betrayed by someone for business or pleasure._

She strode up to the doorway, the six robed asari several meters behind her, watching her movements with almost religious fervor as the door opened. Traesh stood in plain sight, decked out in his armor. I turned up the volume and zoomed in on the proceedings.

There was a whisper on the comm from one of the dancers. "A justicar and seneschals, goddess what did those two do."

 _Now you have a name to assign them. Wonder if the robes are of significance?_

Traesh spoke, silencing any more chatter from the staff as he maintained a calm appearance. "Justicar, why do you come to my establishment? Emerald is an independent colony with no extradition agreement with the Republics or your order, both are on the other side of the galaxy."

The justicar stood unmoved and met our bosses gaze. "Krogan, I seek out the wicked I encounter wherever they go, those who would harm others or commit acts of grievance. Under my code they must perish for what they have done, and those in concordance with my stance have informed me that my quarry is employed here. Do not protect them."

Traesh began to pace across the small confines, barely able to take a single step each direction as he spoke. "Your code is telling you to kill two splits trying to make actual lives after being grabbed by slavers. They are kids, I don't press the past because they work well, because they help and protect the other employees. Now those employees return the favor. They work for me and you will not harm them justicar. As I already said; no extradition treaty between the asari republic and this colony, no agreement with your order." A final breath before his final word. "Leave."

The seneschals shifted uneasily, the justicar still standing stoic. She took a moment to analyze the area behind Traesh's hulking form, no doubt trying to determine defenses.

"This is your final warning alien. Any who protect the wicked shall be judged as such, I have already been beyond as lenient as allowed and you will stand aside." Biotic barriers enveloped the seneschals.

Three of the asari dancers walked off the line at the action, murderous glares from the others and a disappointed look from Traesh. A fourth hesitated before also sprinting out to join them, ignoring the rumbling growl audible at her back from several of the turian staff, the subvocal insult to a perceived traitor.

Our boss paused for a second, taking a moment to walk back inside before he gave an answer. "No."

The area of ground in front of the bar exploded in shrapnel and molten omni-gel, an echoing ring audible even inside the office as the screen filled with dust and a brief yellow flower of flame. I lost sight of the justicar moments before the camera lost feed and the system switched to the next, unsure whether she was alive or dead.

 _I hope that did it._

My hopes rose treacherously, the spirits of those in the bar also perking momentarily before the staff sprang to action.

Dampening mines launched from the salarian, sent towards the dust cloud and opponents it contained. Crackles of green lanced out and caught one of the seneschal asari, dropping her biotic protection and leaving her kinetic barriers to be instantly overwhelmed by concentrated fire, a carnage round from a dancer caught her in the chest and sent her form sprawled back on the screen. Her light armor crumbled under the assault, flaming bits of robe filled the air with armor and viscera formed into charred chunks as she ceased moving, the first casualty.

Barrier curtains snapped up, the unidirectional fields rippling as dark energy and rounds bounced or withered against the electric white defense system. A stream of fire from our side forced the seneschals back, a pair leaving the building in biotic charges before their barriers could fail. Henry was still up and moved closer to the front with the ex-alliance cyborg in tow, his pistol held and flak jacket making me cringe and almost bolt down.

I watched on the screen as our side took the next hit when the justicar announced her survival, one of the trademark shockwaves rolled into the room and caught several human and turian bouncers by surprise. The curtains strained and flickered but held, and I saw another form enter the area. The asari staff who had fled last, accessing a hard-link panel with a fabricated cord and her omni-tool. Distracted the salarian bartender didn't notice the intrusion and I was helpless to respond with what few programs I'd acquired. The barrier curtains dropped.

Another shockwave erupted. People were sent flying, casualties bounced off the ceiling and corpses were biotically slammed into the floor as the seneschals detonated the fields. Chunks of armor and turian plating were scattered across the room. I watched a dancer charge into the settling dust cloud in a scream of rage and cut a tunnel through the haze. A punch boosted by biotics and armor-assist lanced out to hit one of the robed assailants in the face, slipping through her barriers in a small detonation before impacting and shattering her orbital socket. The victorious form was pummeled by biotics seconds later and fell to the floor.

The line of armored staff held for several precious seconds until the justicar sent out another shockwave, her assault rifle fire doing comparatively little to the line with the retractable hard cover in place and decent gear equipped. She finally stumbled out of the fog, armor charred black and stained with an arm held limp while the other one-handed the rifle with biotic assistance. The shockwave itself only killed a human, most of the surviving crew had learned to get out of the way as soon as she started the memetic.

What it did do was lessen the fire enough for her to charge in, impacting Traesh as the krogan stumbled. His suit kept him upright and I thought a moment of surprise crossed her face. We watched warp-enhanced blows trade with armor supported by kinetic buffers and heavy servos as the seneschals took the distraction to storm in, killing two of the remaining dancers with concentrated biotic strikes that the camera recorded as purple blobs.

The salarian bartender ducked down when his shields were shattered from a seneschal's Acolytus pistol, only for her pull field to drag him into open air. The bar's backup kinetic barrier activated and saved him from gunfire until a stream of phasic carbine rounds swept out to gut him. A cry of pleasure from the killing seneschal before she fell to a stun grenade, her prone form sent to the ground riddled with grains from the staff and customers still in the fight, robe tattered and stained with purple.

Traesh and the justicar continued their duel in the corner of the screen, juggernauts that engaged in a trade of blows and biotics. The ugly and dangerous red-shifted immunity field flickered around Traesh as biotic protection, an eerie counterpart to the justicar's biotic barrier. My krogan boss stayed defensive, close enough in to hinder her abilities and far enough to counter her lithe avoidance, still evenly matched even with her down to a single arm and battered by an explosion that would have splattered most across the street.

 _I hope that's using up her biotic strength, keeps her from turning the room into a lopsided smear._

Three of the four remaining seneschals took advantage and rushed in, one dropping a singularity that caught a trio of human bouncers and held them where the diverse mix of weapons could dispatch the helpless forms, red streamers floating around the orb before it ceased. The three rushed into the line, killing another three bouncers with their weapons before someone triggered a countermeasure dampening device and got some measure of systems control back.

The turrets descended from their mounts, high-explosive rounds rippled against the robed figures until one fell, exploding in purple chunks and spattering the camera we were watching from. I heard an enraged shriek of another asari cut off, the warp-wreathed form of a bouncer falling to the floor and appearing outside the view-blocking splatter as the other seneschals were in turn pulped by the turrets. My stomach fell in disgust, dread making me cold even inside the armor. Traesh rolled into cover with Henry and his captain and perked my spirits, just in time for the turrets to refocus on the justicar and send her dropping to a knee as they ripped into her barrier, the field slowly starting to waiver from the unceasing bombardment.

 _Another one dies for you. How many centuries have you robbed them of now? How many years of experience have died to preserve your paltry few? If you have a value for anything other than your own life you go down now. No more dampening support from the bartender, and nobody else seems to have the program. Go help them, she's on her knees now, you can do this._

I did a quick check of my armor, looking at the yet to be used immunity program I had for emergencies. I tried to swallow the apprehension, only succeeding in feeling a spike of pain slowly move down my throat from the tension. I hesitated, a few precious seconds wasted as I tried not to remember any images from the previous fight, tried to blink away the wetness I was feeling. I exhaled loudly, my stance relaxing slightly as I walked out the door, Syella following behind. She grabbed my shoulder when I turned to go to the main area instead of out the side, meeting my gaze through her armor in silence. I pushed the door open and rushed through the hall, then stopped at the end.

I leaned around the corridor and rolled behind the reinforced counter. No weapons fire pinged my position, the staff and seneschals mostly dead. The turrets themselves were now warp-residue coated and deformed, useless for the rest of the battle. I prepped a dampening dart and peeked up, launching it at the robed hostile who was engaging the two friendly biotics still standing. The pair of Serrice Epistle SMG's she was supporting with her biotics kicked up from recoil, jostling her up in a mock surrender. I fired into her center of mass at the same time as a throw lanced from one of the staff, sending the form crumpling to the wall and streaking purple down it.

I hunkered back down, tensing up as I heard a scream a moment later that coincided with several wet thumps. The air rang with a roar from Traesh and silence from the justicar, the last bursts of weapons fire now done, and a scream from an asari and a biotic detonation signaling someone else had fallen. I heard sobs and the crackle of warp-residue, the hiss of venting heat sinks and the armor on armor clangs of blows between Traesh and the justicar. Syella finally rounded the corner and came into sight, only for the justicar to flare in brilliant blue and send Traesh stumbling back, a biotic blast slammed into him a second later. They both tumbled to the ground on the impact when she fell from exertion, orange and purple staining the floor below them.

Henry died a second later, his crew members already fallen outside of my view, the turian lost and the cyborg a sparking and bleeding mass wreathed in warp residue. The section of her leg embedded in the justicar's torso showed the damage she'd done, and now riding the adrenaline high their deaths made me over-focus on the justicar. I glared, stupidly frozen in shock as my rifle vented its heat sink automatically and filled the air with another level of noise.

Syella struck and snapped me out of it, a cry of rage and fear as she biotically charged and sent the other asari flying from the impact. The red-armored form rolled to a stop against the wall as the still-unidentifiable assault rifle was sent flying to the corner. I took a moment to line up my shot while emotions and combat drugs turned my veins to ice, tapping the trigger as fast as I could for semi-automatic fire in bursts that impacted the prone form, the maelstrom of a barrier now having died down to a more standard protective coating. Syella and Traesh both advanced, the krogan firing his terminus-made pistol as fast as the heat sinks would diffuse to allow a constant stream, Syella's M-5 chattering at full auto until it stopped and hissed to vent.

 _Focus on this, don't get distracted._

Warp-residue splashed on my armor and I cowered away distracted as I unconsciously started clasping my forearms, only hearing the next action. A wordless, final exertion from the justicar as a biotic detonation rang out. Two thumps of impact, one significantly heavier than the other. I leaned out and sighted the justicar as I prepared to fire again and prepped a dampening dart. Her face was now splattered with blood, purple streaks and cuts marred the dark-blue skin as the red armor showed its wear, exposed interior mesh and impact buffeters strung with warp-residue from Syella's attacks. A pull sent a table hurling towards Syella, who was caught unaware and pinned to the floor with a cry of pain as it landed on her leg. Traesh was less fortunate, sprawling shockwaves sent towards the battered krogan and sending his frame to dent the ceiling before slamming back down. Plates cracked as a death-rattle sounded from the reptile, a blast of warp-energy slammed into the body for finality.

I fired the dampening dart only for her barrier to redirect it, then was idly tossed aside with a comparatively small throw that knocked me off my feet without so much as a memetic. I took a steadying breath as and quietly drew myself up, cocktail of drugs from the overdeveloped medical suite keeping me on my feet.

 _It's an option now. Do or die._

I still flinched at the thought, then shoved it down with a grunt and triggered the immunity package. My skin crawled as my mind cringed, feeling the ugly, red-shifted kinetic barrier that snapped into focus around my form. I felt one, two and another round spatter out before hitting my torso as the field saved my life.

I bolted towards Syella, storm function on the armor boosting my speed and immunity package shearing off the first warp-field to appear before I reached her. I'd just stopped and yanked off the offending table before the countermove was made.

My world spun as I was lifted off my feet and slammed into the wall. I vaguely heard something crack as my vision disappeared, tumbling back down a moment later to the floor in a daze before the world dripped to black and pain overloaded my nerves.

I tried to get up, leaning on my right side as I got to my knees only for a biotic field to envelop and mash me against the floor. My right arm screamed as it broke when my bleeding leg failed to take my weight, my right wrist snapping back unnaturally even in the armor when I tried to push myself up. I fell over, blood filling my mouth. The clicking of heels drew closer, filling the much quieter battleground. Nobody else was up, and both the targets were on the ground helpless.

"Find piece in the embrace of the goddess human, may your death free you from the corruption you're stained with."

A blue glow filled the edge of my vision, the uneven footsteps louder and louder as I heard the hiss of a venting heat sink. I couldn't move, couldn't force myself up through the pain in my side, my arm, my head. Each panicked breath only forced more air out of my lungs from the pressure as my vision blurred. I expected to die, and the thunderclap that filled my ears and sent them ringing made me wince as my eyes lolled back.

I jolted back awake when the medical suite pumped me full of stimulants and painkillers, a metaphorical hot drill going through my brain as I rolled onto my side, my drug-numbed right arm not responding as I tried to push myself up. My blurred vision revealed the two asari straining as a maelstrom of biotic energy flickered between the two of them, pressing ever closer to Syella as she slowly lost ground, blood trickling from her nose and pharyngeal clefts. Another corona surge emitted from the pair and the edges of her eyes started to bleed, veins close to the surface rupturing from the strain as the justicar pressed onwards. Another thunderclap sent a pang through my ear as I was momentarily blinded, my eyes snapping open a second later to see Syella laying on the ground with warp-residue burning through her armor and into her skin.

Moving made my blurred vision have trouble focusing on the scene, shapes flickering until eventually they focused. The justicar advanced despite her injuries, silent in voice as her heels clicked unevenly with each step, her left leg favored heavily and one arm cradling where the ex-alliance cyborg's appendage had impaled her torso. Her barrier was all but gone, flickering from strain over warp-slurred, explosive-blackened armor and bloodied flesh. She wasn't paying attention to me, her nose and eyes bleeding onto an already blood-marred face. Each step took her a long time, awkward and pained while giving the indication her barely functioning armor was the only thing keeping her upright. Much like myself, though her self-discipline probably gave the same edge the ludicrous amount of drugs in my system did.

 _She's not getting closer to anyone for a few seconds. Time to act._

I was distracted from action by one of the seneschals trying to stand nearby. The dark robes were stained with blood and her shotgun was ruined from several impacts, yet she still tried to clutch it. Still on the ground and wounded I tagged her with a dampening tech-dart to be sure, loading a neural shock mine with a blink to the HUD.

 _It's already beyond minimal force._

I drew my pistol with my off arm and fired, electing a flinch as the first two rounds missed from shaking hands while the third hit its mark. I looked away from the spreading stain, eyes flicking towards the justicar. My action had been anything but subtle, and she turned her head to meet my gaze.

I fired. The neural shock hit the ground next to the pair and caught both asari in the field. The unconscious Syella twitched and randomly flared biotics as her nerves overloaded, sparks of blue leaking into the ground and air. The justicar took the hit silently, dropping to the ground as her form became wracked in small tremors that spoke of control. I squeezed the trigger as I advanced, the beeping of an overheat indicator making me throw the pistol away in annoyance - I couldn't land the shots with my left arm and my state. Robbed of my gun a stimulant-fueled mind ignored the other options and got closer. Each hobbling step sent a jolt of pain that cut through what was in my system, and my unbroken left arm ignited the omni-tool's tunneling blade.

Even in her state the justicar reacted, through intention or luck managing to duck her head before my blow would pass through her neck. Instead the yellow-hot glowing spike passed into and along her crest. The scent of burnt flesh filled the air as the blade seared through three of her head-tents, making two of the heat managing tentacles and a strip of the third fell to the floor with cauterized edges. There was no cry of pain, simply a sizzling sound before a sharp crunch as the blade gave out afterwards, flash-heated material sent flying from the arc of my wrist and onto the floor. A single clump landed on Syella's unconscious form and burned into the armor on her leg, metal and ceramics rent in smoke before it hit flesh.

I slammed to the ground, my unstable form collapsing upon the swing and the steps I'd taken after. My armor was an effort to move, and I lay on the ground in silence, nobody else active and the sounds of any wounded having ended for death or unconsciousness. With the lack of a grievous head-wound I managed to get up slightly, dragging myself along the slick floor with my left arm and legs. I noticed things that should have been obvious: the main floor was a wreck, the deployable cover pieces stood like teeth in a bloodied maw, bodies often splayed over them where the justicar and seneschals had used biotics. Even disorientated I had to look away from the mess the turrets had made before my nausea got worse, instead tracing several of the other corpses and streamers of viscera.

Syella was sprawled across the floor, armor and body covered in warp damage and flickering with the occasional residue. Several spots on her skin had the scale-like layer worn off, showing the translucent network of impact-absorbing fats and supportive tissue that was holding back and pooling blood in nasty bruises. One of her arms was bent at an angle that indicated the joint had dislocated or broken, and dried blood lay on her face in streaks from closed eyes, while a small trickle still poured from her nose.

I ignored the staff and focused on the one point, the justicar sprawled unconscious and hopefully dying with a cauterized slice along her crest. I slowly made my way across the room, haphazardly dragging myself closer to finish the job. Nothing hurt, but I knew that was only a chemical lie.

Minutes passed as I dragged myself by my fingertips. Each pull I could myself getting weaker as it took more effort, blood loss and other effects making me lose function, my side bleeding from damage or a round I'd taken without notice, numb from shock or chemicals. Wandering fingers found a gun, and I tried to lean on my side and stabilize it to take aim, another minute as a wave of dizziness hit, as I tried to keep my eyes open while fighting it off and losing.

"Freeze! Colonial Security!"

I slumped at the surprise and felt my head hit the ground, various voices rumbling together in my mind. The flanging tones of turians cut in better, more audible then the plentiful human and batarian or rarer asari words that were barely a mumble, adrenaline crash and shock coinciding with the electrocution from the overload tech dart that I felt a second later. Mumbled calls for medical staff from the turians, the whine of priming guns as they searched the area and the frantic lamentation of an asari I'd assumed caught sight of a nearly decapitated justicar. Wheezing came into focus, the strangled noise of a turian trying to breathe with too many air-sacs punctured and slowly giving out from hypoxia.

I just lay there, unwilling to move and too tired to pay attention to the different voices and sounds. I felt another medi-gel injection from my suit and received the warning that the supply was exhausted, a brief spot of wet coolness on my ribcage. Exclamations and comments and orders from the colonial defense forces and emergency teams filled the ear that was still receiving sound.

A buzz of a circular cutter, a momentary jostle and my helmet was ripped off. Hands stabilizing my neck and spine as the section of my suit disengaged the lock to a chirping tone of compromised systems. A flashlight filled my eyes and I blinked once, now aware of the warmth trickling down the side of my head as pressure lessened in my ear, a cold patch and sting of medi-gel on the side of my head a second later.

"We ha- ..ive… need a str… g-t-t-t a car…"

I was unable to understand the words spoken, but the reflective and angular face over my head made me assume a turian was talking. I felt vibrations and thumps before another three contact points registered, a blue glow supported my head and neck and I noticed the ceiling got slightly closer and began to spin for a second, shrink for a moment, and get closer for a heartbeat. I moved my eyes, the orange beam of an omni-tools penetrating scan going over my body before I felt a pinprick at my neck. The world slowly began to focus back into clarity, my eyes so heavy but unwilling to close.

Around me were humans and turians in security uniforms. I thought I caught sight of a pair of asari arguing next to the justicar, who was also loaded onto a stretcher and had her head wrapped in medigel-soaked bandaging. A human tried to intervene and halted upon one of the asari lighting up in biotics, before the second in turn lit up and faced her down.

Unable to see where I was going I felt an elevation change send a roll through my stomach, the interior of an ambulance came into sight as a turian nurse stood over me and watched, a reassuring trill of subharmonics as the antiseptic lights turned on and the natural light disappeared with the closing doors. The small jolt of a mass effect field to stabilize the patient area with inertial dampeners was the only sign the vehicle started moving and I finally tried an attempt at speech.

My cracked lips bled as I spoke, the turian ceased trilling to let me speak. "I don't want to sleep." Flailing, rasping voice as I stared into his eyes. "Keep me awake, no sedatives."

 _I don't want to not wake up. I didn't survive this to die of a stimulant overdose or shock on a fucking stretcher while I sleep._

He answered with a nod, taloned arms hold the stretcher as he watched the vital sign monitors deliberately placed out of my view. The short ride to the hospital ending with the doors being slung open as the beginnings of daylight flooded the vehicle. The stretcher lifted again, a human nurse took the opposite side of the turian as I was carried into a hospital proper, thankfully not the same damn clinic the scumbag salarian who'd stolen my omni-tool worked at.

 _Perhaps he'd leaked a copy to an information broker anyways, would explain the justicar. You want to taint yourself with some revenge yet?_

I felt my stretcher stop against a wall, distorted voices raising in volume as we stopped moving. A group of uniformed staff rushed by on the edge of my vision, Colonial Defense Force troopers running behind with rifles in hands.

 _Justicar probably, hopefully they know how stupid it would be to keep anyone from this mess in the same place. I hope I heal faster than she does. Though maybe you could try to slip a bribe, sabotage a monitor. Something. No, why would I think that?_

I was shoved into a room and watched techs start pulling my armor off, I barely had the presence of mind and used a HUD command to disengage locks before they brought out any cutting tools. The action received a thankful glance from a human tech, and a slightly disappointed-sounding comment from a salarian with an active omni-tool. Plates were pulled apart, undersuit layer unzipped to reveal my clothes. I winced as a patch of material adhered into my skin from something was pulled away. The salarian tech injected me with something, and my eyes joined my hearing in emptiness.

 _Foggy images of blue and black pushing through my head, smoke and ozone filling the air I inhaled. A tingling sensation morphing into fire on my nerves as I heard a scream, severed head-tents hitting the floor as their charred sides dusted off with ash that mixed into the blood already present. A beeping sound, a tech mine or grenade that got louder and louder..._

I snapped awake; the subtle beeping of the monitor next to me lowered the volume when the VI detected my state change. Thirst and hunger popped up despite the IV tubes I could feel in my arm, cold sensation of medi-gel and tightness of bandages felt even through any numbing agents said tubes were drip-feeding me. A dozen or so seconds of peace passed before a salarian walked in with a hospital uniform and sensor/speaker headgear assembly on his collar, his omni-tool activated as it did something, and the monitor beeping ceased. My eyes tracked him as he entered, closing the distance and stopping in front of me, presenting a tube to my mouth.

"Drink."

I sipped, the taste of cool water making it hard to pace myself as my dry mouth started to rehydrate, throat sucking down quickly until the tube was pinched for a second.

"Slower, do not strain. You've been unconscious for hundred-thirty-seven hours."

I paced myself, resisting the urge to drain the bottle as quick as possible and instead letting the water sit in my mouth, restoring a bit of moisture to the desert. A minute of slower-paced drinking saw the bottle emptied and it was removed from my lips, quickly placed on a small counter as the salarian checked something on his omni-tool.

My voice strained, but louder and more capable than I'd expected. "Thank you."

A shake of the Salarian's head. "It's unnecessary to thank me, I'm simply assisting a patient. You should be happy to hear you can get discharged later today, as we've managed to purge most of the over-counter stimulants and painkillers in your system as well as the maxx traces, the medical suite in your armor doing a good job of keeping you alive. Your right eardrum ruptured from pressure differential and a small amount of biotic force impacting, be grateful your brain isn't in a medical waste canister"

A pause for a breath as he tapped on my ear, I hadn't noticed the bandage covering it, though it seemed more intact.

"Membrane repaired with medi-gel and corrective surgery, hearing intact and you can remove the bandage at your desire though I'd suggest you leave it in for today. As for your other injuries, thirteen major fractures on 4 bones from kinetic impacts have been corrected with surgical intervention and B.R.G. usage, direct medi-gel injections and nutrient supplements while minor tissue damage to lungs was also corrected with the same. We had to extract several solidified pieces of omni-gel imbedded in muscle tissue and correct some minor damage to your liver and left lung. You were lucky to escape with only minor warp-burns, seems to be flung residue instead of a direct impact."

I took stock in my situation, a lot of issues correctable by modern medicine and medi-gel could be worse. I was relieved at my state until I remembered the other survivors, my heart rate jumped and the salarian pressed his omni-tool, a small amount of sedative swept in and brought me back to baseline uncomfortably.

"Where's the justicar?"

The salarian stopped fidgeting with his omni-tool, instead taking the time to pointedly look me in the eyes. "She was here for three days before being prepped for transit and taken off-planet by an asari transport that volunteered for the duty, the head-wound was disfiguring but non-lethal, rumor indicates you caused it. EDF decided keeping the three of you in the same hospital was probably not an intelligent idea, and they wanted her off-planet to lessen the divisive affect her presence was having on the asari members. Speaking of, the other asari is still unconscious from biotic exhaustion and not accepting visitors, also under armed guard from non-asari EDF members."

 _For her condition, or for fighting a justicar?_

He flicked off his omni-tool and continued as he gave a glance at the door. "EDF officer should be here to interrogate you now that you are awake and coherent, should be able to clear up a few questions the security footage from the bar didn't."

 _Questions on what? Why the justicar was after us? Possibly something more specific about our history, though that seemed unlikely given how lax the customs were. That the traffic controller pulled the stunt to lock down the town was probably causing a bit of internal disruption in regards to the asari minority that lived on planet, not all of them seem entirely happy about the justicar if the screaming match I'd seen from my stretcher was any indication._

A turian in EDF armor walked into the room, and the salarian vacated with a murmur my translator didn't catch. The plated form took an awkward seat in a chair meant for smaller beings, then got up after a few seconds of uncomfortable shifting and just stood. Blueish grey skin with steel coloured plating, fluid yellow colony markings in curved lines across the contours on his face. A small bump in the plating under each eye, swept back in a teardrop an inch long before blending into the rest of the fringe.

"N. Zeneska, no declared age in customs, no known criminal records on any Council or Alliance channels. Makes me curious as to what lead a justicar here, and what exactly you're doing caught up in this spirits-ridden mess. "

His mandibles pulled tight against his face, body leaning forwards while his talons rested on elbow plates.

"Do you have any idea how riled some of the asari officers got seeing you about to execute her? Your obvious conflict aside most of the ones from citadel space thought you must be... Well something. Those who grew up in the terminus would have been more than happy for you to pull the trigger, no room for black and white morality out here by their mindsets."

I tried to sit up, edging my way back to the baseboard to climb before he quickly stepped to my side and held his talons on my shoulder.

"No, you need to listen to this. You're lucky I zapped you before a biotic throw put you down in your state, never mind the cost. We're used to gang violence and merc groups trying to edge in on our job, not what I would count as a diplomatic incident in citadel space. I'm not supposed to get politics here, all the groups leave each other alone so long as you humans and the batarians don't go to war."

He stopped for a second, turning away as if to pace before meeting my eyes again. I felt a slight shiver from the predatory gaze but ignored it, waiting to see what his game was before I'd respond.

He started up again. "Rather I have what counts as a minor celebrity with part of her head sliced-off, an asari with a genetic condition I can't tell some of my officers about for fear they'll do something stupid, and a single human somehow caught up in the mess. Explain this." Mandibles flapped, teeth barred as the turian's expression changed to a glare at the last sentence.

Ignoring the sore spots of bruises protesting the motion, I sat up free of interference. A series of stretches heralded a few pops of joints and stings as I ignored him for a few precious seconds to gather my thoughts. I turned back to the turian, the predatory green gaze met my own as I tried to explain.

"I accidentally got in the justicars way on Horizon, Syella and I led her around one of the port settlements on a goose chase before we got picked up by what we thought were mercs. Said mercs were slavers, and after getting knocked out we woke up in the brig on their corvette. Managed to escape with the other slaves when they transferred us to the base, they hadn't chipped anyone yet, might be they wanted coherent workers or fighters." A breath to steady myself. "I'm not entirely sure, perhaps the humans in the ring just wouldn't do that, though given the other asari's state I doubt that, either way it saved us. Four of us anyways. Only two left given the batarian and zom died afterward."

I stopped then, throat already screaming in protest from the speech. I reached for a full bottle on the side table, not receiving the courtesy of assistance from the turian.

"That explains you, her code would support your death for interfering with one of her expeditions, never mind if she thought you were being, ah, 'influenced' by a certain asari companion you have." Air quotes at the inflected word, with awkward warble of his mandibles afterwards. I rolled my eyes and squashed down the urge to hit him.

 _You two didn't end up killing the - issue - and managed to completely fuck over your employment. Traesh is dead. The staff present are dead. You got them all killed. How many is that now? For you or for her? Someone you tolerate out of empathy but fear at night, shared trauma with no basis. A basis now arguably, the death of someone from your past, with his own crew and family._

I started to open my mouth, not sure what exactly to say given the circumstances. I still had no idea about Syella's actual past, the extent of truth in the story she'd told me. The turian must have noticed my frown, remaining quiet as I continued to think. While entirely possible she was telling the truth, having been a victim of an order's obsession she could be chased for good reason. I had no way to know what she'd done in the rest of the galaxy in the decades before I was even born, what people she'd helped or hurt and crimes committed. So far as I could tell the best reason I had to trust her was that I was alive, that through the last few weeks I'd not been killed and left empty in an alley. My tongue flicked over my tooth, noticing it was fixed rather than the broken edge I'd just got used to. She'd helped me, I owed my survival to her despite being the cause of the mess in the first place.

I finally spoke, drawing my eyes to the EDF officer. "No, she hasn't done anything here. And no, I'm not sleeping with her." I took a breath and prepared to throw away goodwill. "Throwing the justicar off-planet wasn't the right choice, unless you dumped enough forged evidence to indicate we had died. In which case someone will blab and she will check, and then you'll only end up in the same boat as us, officer." I spat the last word, annoyed they'd moved in to clean up the mess instead of dealing with it.

One more sentence to lose a little more, my body language stoic as my eyes slid away from the green glare. "You should have let me kill her."

 _There, you needed to say it. This is survival now, is it really any worse that what else you've done? You killed for money. Now you kill to protect yourself. You already failed to protect others._

No flick of a mandible, just a grim adjustment of the turians jaw before he responded. "Very well, legally this is a clear case of self-defense in regard to a religious official attacking otherwise law-abiding citizens without jurisdiction." Teeth bared. "Though you keep her from doing anything human, any accidents happen and you're both up for grabs from my asari officers. Do your job, and the medical expenses are covered by the policy your boss had in place. His liquidation of assets to surviving employees in the event of death." He almost scoffed, as close as a turian could with tone. "With you two being the only surviving employees on that shift I'll overlook the resignation conversation on the security footage, you get your majority and those off-duty get their reduced share. Take it or leave it human, you get the medical expenses paid or must cover it on your own, in which case we'll keep a very close eye on how you get the funds.

 _Medical costs probably suck if I've been here for a week. High-grade medigel, along with assorted treatment. Civilian genemods help. Syella to pay for as well, no idea there._

"I'll tell the staff to release you when you're up for it Nikolai, I suggest you stay nearby until she's discharged, then come and deal with her and explain the situation. Good day, human."

Conversation over he left, armor-plated footfalls fading with distance before the salarian came back in.

"Armor and gear in staging closet on your left, suggested that you take your time before leaving and return if any issues arise."

I gave another nod, too tired to do much else as I slipped down the wall and into the bed, closing my eyes to rest for a minute.

I'd woken up a few hours later, system flushed of drugs and starving despite the IV tubes. My armor had been cleaned upon removal for sanitary reasons but the damage from the fight was visible in many cracked plates, some warp-melted edges and a hundred scuffs and chips on the surface. Annoyingly my rifle was trashed but my pistol was intact. They hadn't even bothered to provide me the remnants for omni-gel conversion. Instead of doing the rational thing and re-arming I found myself sitting in a dive with decent food, the so-called "miners' breakfast" of mixed human and batarian fare all but demolished in front of me, and the state of my armor and few visible scars made the other patrons stare more than I would have preferred.

I glanced around once more before I noticed the salarian in Eclipse colours in the corner, talking to an asari about something with animated gestures. I moved on and continued my look around of the building. Humans and batarians that could stand each other's company filled the rest of the establishment, the stench of mixed species bodies and mining solvent mingled with the surprisingly decent if bland food. Still, it was filling and easy to keep down for a stomach still flopping from drugs.

I'd spent the night sitting at the same spot on the bar, scarfing down a more flavorful but volatile dinner before throwing up in the restroom and settling on soup, and not willing to sleep I'd simply sat and watched the haptic screen's unusual vid-selection.

I resisted the temptation for something stronger, and ignored the constant glances from the staff and patrons as I sat and recovered, mind blank aside from replaying scenes over and over and slowly making the headache worse. I'd be here a while.

* * *

 _AIS Personal Report: Xeno-biology of species SE-LE-6 (Formerly classified as NS-SY-1/SE-DE-1)_

 _Designation has been updated to Sentient-Levo-6, previously classified as Nonsentient-Symbiont-1 subservient Sentient Dextro-1._

 _Deputy Director, our initial classification of this species was a single burnt, vacuum-damaged corpse hauled out of one of the "Turian" ships we damaged at Shanxi. As you're aware our initial impression was some sort of pet, assistant animal or security creature similar to that of our dogs or dolphins on aquatic colonies. The decision was made on a multitude of factors, notably the lack of clothing or vac-suit, cauterized removal of a tail as one would expect a pet with problematic appendages, the damage to the cranium making determining the braincase size incomplete, and said brain being irretrievable._

 _Said thesis was upheld upon our initial examination of the "First-contact CODEX" provided by the citadel council, which mentioned the volus as a hierarchy client species and listed other sentient species as Asari, Salarian, Turian, Volus, Hanar, Elcor, Batarian, Korgan, Quarian with extinct tags for Rachni and Protheans, and alarmingly an AI-tag for Geth. One of our agents assigned to the diplomatic team sent to the citadel was able to acquire a different copy of the CODEX database from a volus in exchange for our backup cultural data set._

 _The context of said codex was alarming, three sentient species we had no intelligence of existing and not included in the council package, along with a section on SE-LE-6 (NS-SY-1/SE-DE-1 at the time) as a sentient race. The brief entry labelled them as Zom, indicating said species has been a client race of the turians since before their contact with the citadel council. A relatively useless description was included, though it did confirm the secondary eye slots Dr. Yoeu had hypothesized._

 _I recommend further investigation._

 _SIG-ID:_ αιςβιωδιξ


End file.
